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                     FAVORITE PSYCHEDELIC 
                      LYRICS 
                    Now what 
                      I'm thinkin' 'bout is so delicate....... 
                      If I breathe you know, I might lose it....... 
                      It's just a drop of water in the biggest ocean I've ever 
                      known.... 
                      But at the very same time, it's big enough to drown the 
                      whole world..... 
                       
                    
                       
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                        From 
                          "Rainin' Babies" by The Flaming Lips, as it 
                          appears on In A Priest Driven Ambulance. Wayne 
                          Coyne always was good at writing these strangely conversational 
                          spiritual aphorisms of surprising depth. Everyone thought 
                          he was a major acid head, but as revealed in their recent 
                          Magnet Magazine cover story, Coyne has only done 
                          acid once or twice, a half-hit each time, revealing 
                          his bounteous psychedelic imagery to be mostly just 
                          speculation, about "the great acid trips we'd have 
                          when we became rock stars" or some such.... | 
                       
                     
                    She lifts 
                      her dress and floats to dreamland, 
                      Makes love to the sky 
                      She lets her hair hang down as the weeds grow around -- 
                      Lady 
                      Greengrass! 
                      Licking lollipops, catching moon drops, 
                      Bright and Beautiful 
                      Big fat love-inns, groovy be-inns, 
                      For lady Greengrass! 
                      Puff! -- The Trees turn tangerine! 
                      Puff! -- The sky is suddenly green! 
                      Her eyes reveal her state of mind.... 
                      ....She's beginning to fly!...." 
                       
                    
                       
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                        From 
                          "Lady Greengrass" by a German band called 
                          The Ones. I haven't heard it, but these lyrics were 
                          printed in the book Cosmic Dreams At Play by 
                          Dag Erik Asbjornsen. It was the A Side of a single released 
                          in 1967, the only record The Ones ever put out. Edgar 
                          Froese played "an excellent, wailing acid guitar 
                          on this track" but, after The Ones' short-lived 
                          career, went on to form the more outward bound and legendary 
                          group Tangerine Dream, releasing several great albums 
                          in the early 70s before normalizing themselves into 
                          doing soundtracks for Tom Cruise movies.  | 
                       
                     
                     And 
                      just when you tell her that you have no love to give her 
                      she gets you on her wavelength and she lets the river answer 
                      that you've always been her lover..... 
                    
                       
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                        From 
                          "Suzanne" by Leonard Cohen, who probably isn't 
                          typically described as 'psychedelic,' but his first 
                          album Songs of Leonard Cohen certainly works 
                          for me.   | 
                       
                     
                    Words 
                      are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup, 
                      They slither while they pass, they slip away Across the 
                      Universe. 
                      Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my opened 
                      mind, 
                      Possessing and caressing me. 
                     Jai Guru Deva....Om 
                      Nothing's gonna change my world..... 
                      Images of broken light which dance before me like a 
                      million eyes, 
                      They call me on and on Across the Universe. 
                      Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box, 
                      They tumble blindly as they make their way Across the Universe 
                      Jai Guru Deva....Om 
                      Nothing's gonna change my world...... 
                      Sounds of laughter, shades of earth are ringing 
                      Through my open ears inciting and inviting me. 
                      Limitless, undying love, which shines around me like a million 
                      suns, 
                      And calls me on and on Across the Universe 
                      Jai Guru Deva.....Om 
                      Nothing's gonna change my world...... 
                       
                       
                     
                       
                        |   | 
                        John 
                          Lennon's "Across the Universe." A very nice 
                          bit of religious psychedelia. | 
                       
                     
                      
                      
                     And 
                      how do I define "psychedelic"? Basically, as "intoxicating," 
                      meaning that something that is psychedelic is either a drug 
                      or something that mimics the effects of drugs. Even Leonard 
                      Cohen music mimics drugs through its focus, with each song 
                      a dirge of sorts that wends its way softly through one sound, 
                      one mood, a metaphor for the flatline of the drug-induced 
                      zone-out...or is it a metpahor for the sheer focus of epiphany, 
                      drug-induced or, just as importantly, completely sober? 
                      I think the latter is just as valid of a definition of "psychedelic" 
                      -- the sheer blinding focus of epiphany -- which brings 
                      us to the definition Richard Meltzer has used a couple times, 
                      "mind-manifesting," which to me means having your 
                      personal imagination fully engaged so that it charges you 
                      and your surroundings. In the Sixties, when groups of people 
                      were all mind-manifesting themselves in the same room, the 
                      resulting charge often led to some wild things -- psychedelic 
                      rock, folk, jazz, and electronic music, free love, and other 
                      radical demonstrations of the politics of being AT PLAY. 
                      Which is what I really mean when I say "intoxicating," 
                      is to be intoxicated by PLAY, not necessarily drugs, though 
                      drugs certainly do induce play in various ways for all ages 
                      who use them....just as they often don't induce any sort 
                      of play at all for people who dislike them, or are abusing 
                      them, or otherwise burnt-out on them, but using them anyway...DRUGS 
                      DO NOT ALWAYS GUARANTEE PLAY, OR EVEN PSYCHEDELIA....or 
                      even intoxication, for that matter. (cf. "I Couldn't 
                      Get High" by The Fugs.) The guy you know/once knew 
                      who sits in his living room at home and smokes tons of pot 
                      and then just sits there and smokes tons more after a while 
                      and just sort of repeats that all his life IS NOT psychedelic, 
                      or is he? (Maybe as some kind of zen singularity?)  
                       
                       
                   
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                      I 
                        am seriously NOT ready to have a column in this issue. 
                        Hmm... 
                        
                      Yep, 
                        I'm just gonna do this schtick for a while, the good ole 
                        'columnist with nothing to say' schtick.  
                        
                      Oh, 
                        excuse me, Marge? While you're in the kitchen, would you 
                        mind getting me a beer? Oh, thanks.........yeah........love 
                        you too..........mmm. Yep. That's better. Mrs. Margaret 
                        Sonder, ladies and gentlemen. That's right honey, take 
                        a bow....anyway, let's see... 
                        
                      You've 
                        heard of "Top 10 of 1998" lists or whatever 
                        (how boring?), or "staff picks," (who cares?), 
                        but here's something that actually matters a damn in this 
                        shill-dense global culture we're all breathing right this 
                        'fucking' second:  
                        TOP (x) ALBUMS/SONGS OF THE 
                        LAST 2-20 YEARS THAT ARE CLEARLY GODHEAD (AND 
                        MAYBE EVEN A LITTLE BIT ABOUT "WHY") 
                       
                         
                          |      | 
                           
                             
                               
                                No Neck Blues Band A Tabu Two 
                                Either one. (They released two albums by that 
                                title at the same time. Vinyl-only, on the New 
                                World of Sound label, with catalog numbers NWOS-21 
                                and NWOS-22. For the record, I slightly prefer 
                                the second one.) On first listens I passed these 
                                off as just random self-conscious 'noise' music 
                                -- I thought their previous double CD Letters 
                                from the Earth was more of a 'masterpiece.' 
                                Now Earth sounds more like random self-conscious 
                                'noise' music (except for that track with the 
                                bongo beat). Not every passage on these two LPs 
                                is exceptional, but it's never too long before 
                                some combination of hushed ambient instrument 
                                sound and hushed abstract-percussive rhythm makes 
                                the music at hand actually seems to be breathing. 
                                (Is that what people mean when they call music 
                                "organic"?). 
                                 
                                No Neck Blues Band Letters from 
                                the Serth 
                                And this one is probably even better than the 
                                Tabu LPs, and definitely better than the 
                                double-disc it almost has the same name as. Just 
                                a rock solid 60 minutes of dark psychedelic groove 
                                music. Oh shit, that makes it sound cheesy. It's 
                                not cheesy at ALL. It's the best white Sun Ra 
                                music I've ever heard. CD only. Warning to shoppers: 
                                I don't think the band name appears anywhere on 
                                it 
                                 
                                  
                                 
                                Doug 
                                Snyder and Bob Thompson Daily Dance. 
                                Two rockers from Ohio, jamming 
                                in their kitchen in 1972. "Doug plays a mean 
                                distorto-chop guitar inspired by James Williamson, 
                                while Bob smashes out the cascading, enveloping 
                                melodies on his drums; Daily Dance lies somewhere 
                                between rock and jazz, in a place you've never 
                                been before (no "fusion" licks in evidence). 
                                Abstract, but terribly immediate music, plus class 
                                song titles like "Teenage Emergency." 
                                Highly recommended." -- Richard Reigel, 
                                Creem, September 1977. Warm 
                                O'Brisk Records. 
                              Miles 
                                Davis Get Up With It 
                                Another 
                                great double LP from Miles Davis's 66-75 'electric' 
                                period, this one is worth inclusion for side one 
                                alone, a 30-minute tour de force of dazed melancholy 
                                called "He Loved Him Madly." A eulogy 
                                of sorts to Duke Ellington, it really sounds nothing 
                                like his music, instead creating a shadowy late-night 
                                feel that eventually simmers into a slow funk 
                                groove thanks to drummer Al Foster. Miles's (uncredited) 
                                organ playing on the first half really deserves 
                                to go into the pantheon of atmospheric psychedelia. 
                                 
                             
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                            to 
                              h*ck with label addresses, if you wanna connect 
                              with any of this shit just go to google.com 
                              and do a search on the band name and title too if 
                              its different (using "__" + "__" 
                              format) . that's honestly your best chance of buying 
                              any of this stuff, it's just not economically feasible 
                              to stock it in most record stores.. 
                           | 
                         
                       
                        
                      There's 
                        a killer new country song out that attacks one of the 
                        most heinous forms of crap pop yet to come down the pike: 
                        Nashville's "new country." It's recorded by 
                        Dallas Wayne (co-written with Robbie Fulks). Haven't heard 
                        of Mr. Wayne? Well, he's big in Finland. (That is not 
                        a joke, he actually moved there from Chicago because that 
                        was where the sales were.) With lyrics like these, it's 
                        easy to see why the average American dumbo, intensely 
                        terrified of any aesthetic challenge whatsoever, wouldn't 
                        be interested: 
                         
                        There's a certain song that's got my local station 
                        stuck 
                        It's got a steel guitar and I believe that it mentions 
                        a truck  
                        But the singer don't sound like he ever worked a stick 
                        shift 
                        It sounds more like bad Phil Collins with a hip face-lift 
                      It 
                        reminds me, just a couple days ago I was overhearing these 
                        two co-workers talk about music. Even though I'm thinking 
                        of music 24-7-365 I couldn't bear to join in on the conversation. 
                        One was trying to convince the other one that some song 
                        by somebody was pretty good: "Yeah, I like that song! 
                        Hey, it's all music! I can appreciate all types of music, 
                        I've got an open mind about it." Oh great, I'm thinking, 
                        you've got an open mind! Well, I've got some shit you 
                        can borrow by Caroliner Rainbow Stewed Angel Skins, or 
                        about some mp3's by The Laundryroom Squelchers? Or no, 
                        no, you've gotta check out this Ilhan Mimaroglu record 
                        my friend just lent me....What's that, you're not familiar 
                        with the 1960s Turkish 'compositions for magnetic tape' 
                        scene? Well, it should be perfect for an open-minded music 
                        lover like yourself!  
                                 He continued: 
                        "I'll even listen to some country! There's actually 
                        some country that I like!" I'm thinking, hell yeah, 
                        like The Carter Family, Bill Monroe, Hank Sr., Buck Owens, 
                        Marty Robbins....but of course he has to go and say "Like 
                        that one Garth Brooks song...." Jesus God, why is 
                        it always Garth Brooks? Just because he wears a cowboy 
                        hat on his album covers, are people really believing that 
                        he's any more 'country' than Billy Joel and Phil Collins? 
                        "Yeah, I'll listen to some country, some rap...but 
                        really these days I've just been getting into good old 
                        rock and roll, stuff that really jams, like Godsmack, 
                        Buckcherry...." Okay, that's it, you get the GONG, 
                        muh-fuh.... 
                        
                      LITERATURE 
                        MANIFESTO (like anyone really NEEDS one): I recognize 
                        the beauty of texts, and my texts I mean pieces of writing, 
                        stories, essays, comic strips, poems, songs, and any performance 
                        thereof, that DO NOT DEMAND TO BE READ FROM BEGINNING 
                        TO END. I hereby declare these OPEN TEXTS. Just reading 
                        the first few lines should be enough to inform the reader 
                        that this is an OPEN TEXT, and that he or she is free 
                        to dip into the text randomly and enjoy its word-power 
                        that way. These are TEXTS THAT DO NOT RELY ON BEING SEQUENTIAL. 
                        (Like a performance of music in which you watch some of 
                        the time, listen some of the time, play pool in the other 
                        room some of the time, and go to the bathroom some of 
                        the time....you dip in and listen when you feel like swimming, 
                        and the water feels good, but pretty soon you feel like 
                        getting out and putting the water back into the background 
                        so you can go sun yourself. You do not have to experience 
                        the music performance sequentially in order to have an 
                        experience of it.) Have you read every word of Finnegan's 
                        Wake and Absalom, Absalom? Two of my favorite 
                        books -- I've read about ten percent of each. OPEN MOTHERF***ING 
                        TEXTS.....(see also the oft-discussed-by-Blastitude Aesthetics 
                        of Rock by Richard Meltzer, as well as the Wandering 
                        Archive One anthology reviewed earlier in this issue...) 
                         
                        
                         
                      
                         
                          |                                       | 
                          Brad 
                            Sonder is a writer who lives in Lincoln, and presumably 
                            does nothing but sit at his computer and listen to 
                            records -- no one knows anyone who has seen him. Don't 
                            miss his dense 'new records' column, So 
                            Much Music, So Much Time as published in Nougat. 
                            Brad also writes a column about the Lincoln music 
                            scene for lincolzine.com. | 
                         
                       
                        
                       
                          
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