O JUNK YA’LLZ!!1 I’VE BEEN SOOOO BAKED 2DAY I ALMOST 4GOT TO PUT 2GETHER A MIX FOR 420. I’M LIKE THAT ADULTERER IN THE BIBLE STORY… LOVE TO GET STONED, KNOW WUT I’M SAYING?!?!?! NAH I’M JUST KIDDING.

N-E WAYZ, 420 IS MAH FAVORITE HOLIDAY AND I CELEBRATE IT EVERY YEAR B/C I FEEL IT IS IMPORTANT THAT WE LEGALIZE THE GANJ. GRASS HELPS ME AND OTHER PPL FIND OUT THE TRUTH IN THINGS. AND U KNOW WHAT? MAN, I’LL TELL YOU WHAT THE REAL CRIME IS… IT’S WHEN OUR FASCIST GOVERNMENT TELL US… WAIT, MY TRAIN OF THOUGHT DERAILED. O WELL, LOL. BUT YEAH, AS I SAID EARLIER I MADE YA’LLZ A MIX TO BRING IN THE HOLIDAY RIGHT. ALSO, IF U WANT TO SMOKE GRASS BUT CAN’T ROLL A DEECE J, HERE’S HOW TO MAKE A GRAVITY BONG WITH HOUSEHOLD ITEMS. PEACE.

For this classroom activity, you will need:
- Kitchen mop bucket (preferably unused or at least thoroughly washed)
- a 2-liter bottle
- Sink faucet screen with nut (the lil’ doo-dad where the water comes out)
- Aluminum foil
- Knife or scissors
- Access to municipal tap water, yo

THIS IS 4 TOBACCO USE ONLY, THO, SO DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME WITH N-E THING ELSE *WIIINKZ NUDGE*

Fill bucket about 3/4 with water. Cut four small incisions at the bottom of the plastic bottle. Remove bottle cap, replace with sink screen and nut, and pad bottle nozzle tightly with aluminum foil (don’t want any of the tobackee smoke *wiiink* to get out).  Fill screen with your favorite flavored tobacco. Push bottle toward bottom of bucket. Light tobacco and slowly pull bottle up out of water. Remove cap, put mouth on bottle nozzle then slowly start pushing bottle back down into bucket while inhaling. And viola! ENJOI YR. FINE AMERICAN GROWN TOBACCO PRODUCTS LOLZ.

IF YA’LLZ HAVE N-E ?’S U CAN HIT ME UP ON AIM MY SCREENNAME IS SMOAK420

If you do get busted by the po-lice for enjoyin’ the finer things in life, tell them that you got these gravity “tobacco” bong instructions from Gorilla Vs. Bear, ya know what I’m sayin’.

MP3 :::
Acid Mothers Temple & The Melting Paraiso UFO – Ange Mecanique De Saturne
Magik Markers – There is No Path Which is Not Straight
Loop – Fade Out
Comets on Fire – Jaybird
Pink Floyd – Astronomy Domine
Darker My Love – I Feel Fine
The Byrds – Space Odyssey
Landing – Gravitational 2
Cloudland Canyon – Mothlight Part 1
Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti – Gettin’ High in the Morning
The Black Angels – Snake in the Grass
13th Floor Elevators – Slip Inside This House
Deerhunter – Octet
Frank Zappa – Flower Punk

Any discussion of white boys playing the blues generally has to involve a purist going on about how “derivative” or “inauthentic” it is with frequent references to long-dead always obscure bluesmen with claims that they were the originals.

But, once you face the reality that everything and everyone is somehow a product of influences and predecessors, the argument fizzles. Just bring up the fact that Wallace Willis, a Native American, wrote Swing Low, Sweet Chariot back in the mid 19^th century and then walk away from the blank stares.  In reality it was the adaptation of that tune by the Jubilee Singers that made it a timeless classic. I’ve made my point so let me put the lid back on this can of worms before it turns into a Ken Burns project.

The lesson my friends is to appreciate the music for what it is rather than trying to DNA test it for lineage. It’s the serendipitous melding of experiences and influences that keeps music fresh. While I like Mozart and all, I’d be pretty disappointed if we hadn’t moved on to other things in the last 300 or so years.

By this time you’re all thinking, ok I’m with you but… who is Dr. Hoffmann and where does Bo fit into this?

Dr. Albert Hoffmann, aside from being a loving husband and father, was the inventor and first consumer of LSD back in 1943. It was the same year a teenaged Bo Diddley was playing Chicago street corners for tips. These two seemingly unrelated events would turn out to combine in one of the greatest accidental unions since chocolate met peanut butter.

Some 20 years later, pasty-faced suburban teens in England would stumble onto Dr. Hoffmann’s miracle drug, the advent of which was heralded by the 1966 single, £SD, by The Pretty Things. While you may not have heard of them, you may know guitarist Dick Taylor’s previous gig – the Rolling Stones. Taking their name – and influence – from Bo Diddley and his 1956 hit, Pretty Thing, the band wore the blues on their shirt sleeves (and a blotter on their tongues). The late ‘60s was exploding with soulful crooners backed by 12 bars of guitar, a Hammond B3 and a heavy drug habit.

Joining Dick Taylor in the Bad Timing Hall of Fame is Terry Reid who turned down an offer to be the vocalist in Jimmy Page’s post-Yardbirds project. Having already committed to go on tour as the opening act for the Stones in ‘69, Reid recommended a guy by the name of Robert Plant and the rest is history. Reid did go on to put out some amazing work but only he knows whether it’s sufficient solace for missing out on being a part of rock’s supergods. Check out his cover of Donovan’s Superlungs My Supergirl.

On this side of the pond, bands like Captain Beefheart were reinventing the delta sound on tracks like Sure ‘Nuff ‘N Yes I Do and Diddley’s own Diddy Wah Diddy. Austin’s 13^th Floor Elevators were pioneering the garage psych sound before going true psychedelic with Roky Erickson’s hospitalization. Van Vliet seemed to escape with his sanity and went on to call acid, “overrated aspirin and very similar to old people’s Disneyland.”

With the 1970’s came the golden age of progressive rock where musical genres melted together like your collection of old LPs in the attic. The movement ultimately imploded under the pretentious weight of such bloated arena monsters as Rush and ELP and the onslaught of concept albums and rock operas. Inevitably this is the part of the conversation where someone brings up The Wall or Tommy. Which is also the point at which I respond with Kilroy Was Here and Bob Dylan’s Saved. There is always that moment when a movement becomes too big, overextends itself (think Madonna’s acting career), and ultimately gets smacked down in a merciful act of musical Darwinism.

Later bands would eschew (love that word) the falsettos and string sections like Claw Hammer – named after the Beefheart tune – stripping things down to the basics with blues harmonica and a hardcore edge. Beck’s landmark album, Odelay, opens Hotwax with slide guitar and a blues shuffle while reaching back to sample Them’s version of It’s All Over Now Baby Blue for Jack-ass. Jon Spencer Blues Explosion went so far as to collaborate with R.L. Burnside on A Ass Pocket of Whisky and The Black Keys put out an entire album’s worth of Junior Kimbrough covers with Chulahoma. The white boy blues were back.

Even something like the folky guitar intro and Robert Pollard’s faux-Brit lilt in Boston Spaceships’ Go For the Exit conjure up hallucinations of 1968. The only disappointment of having so deeply incorporated past influences into the current vibe is the tendency to sometimes overlook the origins of the sound.

I happened to turn on the television the other day to hear the unmistakable riff from Depeche Mode’s Personal Jesus being kidnapped by some vapid fluff bunny who turned out to be Hillary Duff. If I have one pet peeve with respect to influences, it’s the neither fish nor fowl approach where the song isn’t exact enough to be a cover but not deviant enough to be considered original work. Duff completes the trifecta of creating a shit song by adding a gratuitous rap for crossover appeal and then releasing umpteen remixes of a song which is already essentially a remix.

Let me redirect before I get all depressed about the current state of music. It’s not entirely true that every song has been written. Someone at some time has done something similar, but the measure of true artistry is in synthesizing past talents in a unique way. It’s not much different than cooking. How many recipes include flour, sugar and butter as the main ingredients? But would you flog a chef for relying on such a foundation? I prefer my dessert delicious rather than completely original at the expense of taste. Likewise with my music.

As an aside, I’m not Ken Burns and the above wasn’t at all intended to be comprehensive in the least. One of these days I’ll get around to the 14 hour PBS mini-series but for now this is what you get. Enjoy.

MP3 :::
The Pretty Things – LSD
Terry Reid – Superlungs My Super Girl
13th Floor Elevators – Levitation
Captain Beefheart – Sure ‘Nuff ‘N Yes I Do
Beck – Hotwax
Boston Spaceships – Go For the Exit

Since it’s Halloween week, and I always associate Orson Wells’ War of the Worlds broadcast with the holiday, it seemed like a decent time for posting proper on some Simply Saucer. Though their name sounds like an item you might pick up at your nearby intergalactic grocery stop, their astral psychedelic garage transmissions more than make up for poor title decisions (I mean, their quintessential album is titled Cyborgs Revisited… Ridley Scott, you own them some royalties, dudebro).

The influences are obvious – early Floyd, 13th Floor Elevators, the Velvets’ “Sister Ray,” Delay 68 Can, Electric Prunes, et al., but whereas those groups fine-tuned their sound and still maintained a compositionally tight feel despite their freewheeling image, Simply Saucer had no interest in aesthetic. Every song sounds as if it was recorded live with cheap tape recorders.  Its gorgeously raw sound and low-end clipping mix gives Simply Saucer extra (possibly unintended) atmosphere. It’s too bad that Simply Saucer was never known too far outside their native Ontario, as they really captured, at least in my mind’s eye, the archetypal ’60s/early ’70s psych movement from a candid, outsider perspective. Being removed from what was happening in England and the West Coast is totally an asset to Cyborgs Revisited. 

They were also to an extent, as a sign o’ the times, totally insane. “Illegal Bodies” was recorded live and begins with some poignant stage banter about the next song: “Here’s some heavy metaloid music. It’s called ‘Illegal Bodies.’ It’s a song in the future. It’s when, uh, unless you have a metal body, they’re not gonna allow you to walk the streets. No kiddin’.” Right on, man. I’ll post this song at a later point.

But first, I wanna discuss two of the strongest jams on Cyborgs Revisited. Both “Here Come the Cyborgs, Part 2″ and “Dance the Mutation” dabble heavy in United States of America-style noise, including theremin sounds and other flourishes. Rather than rip into solos and what-not, Simply Saucer resorted to their acumen for cultivating a disorienting mood, adding effects and textures that resembled some cross between a first respondent siren and sound effects from The Day the Earth Stood Still. Around 3:05 and after on “Dance the Mutation,” you’ll probably notice early rumblings of what will later become shoegazing. You need Simply Saucer if you’re a Spacemen 3 fiend.

Also, there’s a pretty sweet review of Cyborgs Revisited on Amazon.com from a dude who calls himself “Farmer Ted”:

“Yo. This album is hot.
They drop bombs and don’t mess around.
I can’t believe more popel have not heard of this.
When you want a band that just rips it up nice…
Simply Saucer.
It’s the mad sweet old just ripping and going for it.
No one wants to do that anymore…
Well…Simply Saucer did.
Buy it. “

MP3 :::
Simply Saucer – Here Come the Cyborgs (Part 2)
Simply Saucer – Dance the Mutation

Like drugs and lovers, ’60s psych pop groups were all about sharing songs. West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band delighted in celebrating the work of their peers with a variety of covers that appeared on Volume One. West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, the more tuneful and pop-oriented response to Andy Warhol’s and the VU’s Exploding Plastic Inevitable, dabbled in many genres: lo-fi garage sounds, baroque pop compositions, rollicking vocal harmonies, sunshine psych pop, and general sonic fuckin’ around. Their original songs were catchy, trippy, and fun, but it was when West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band covered a similar band, often yielding something better than the original version, that the group showcased a more unique, remarkable representation of the free decade of love and sharing.

Unfortunately, West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band was short-lived, and the members went on to pursue some pretty uncool careers. I won’t name names, but one of ‘em joined Three Dog Night. Nice.

I have lots of fun comparing and contrasting covers with originals or other covers. Have fun with me, won’t you?

“She May Call You Up Tonight” was originally written by Michael Brown of The Left Banke. Though there’s not much of a discernible different, the polyphonic vocal harmony gives West Coast’s version a more expansive feel. Like with many covers of Bob Dylan songs, their version of “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue” is closer to the 13th Floor Elevators’ raspy ballad take on the song. West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band dusts the dirge off and gives it a new electric life.

Find West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band’s Volume One, from the reissue saviors themselves Sundazed, here and the 13th Floor Elevator’s Easter Everywhere here. The Left Banke’s There’s Gonna Be a Storm: Complete Recordings 1966-1969, which documents everything Michael Brown did with the Banke (and some things that he didn’t), is hard to find, but you can buy the album as an MP3 here.

MP3 :::
West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band – She May Call You Up Tonight
The Left Banke – She May Call You Up Tonight
West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band – It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue
13th Floor Elevators – Baby Blue

Sweet sassy molassey! I had no clue that Roky Erickson, 13th Floor Elevators‘ mastermind and D.A.R.E. role model by example, is performing with the Black Angels next week. And I found this out from, get this, a pay-per-click advert on FaCeBoO!klol. My lameness has reached critical mass.

Having just returned from a quick east coast jaunt, Roky got his permission slip signed again and is heading back out, starting October 4th in Dallas and moving westward like the Oregon Trail. The Black Angels will play an opening set for Roky, then serve as his backing band. The two Texas reverb purveyors are also in the studio to work on some old Erickson-penned songs, as well as to collaborate on new material (possibly the follow up to Directions to See a Ghost). I love Roky. I love the Black Angels. I feel total damage for not being able to attend these shows. But let me know how they go – vibes, set list, whatever. Dates after the jump.

10.04.08 – Dallas, TX – The Granada Theatre
10.28.08 – Seattle, WA – The Showbox at The Market
10.29.08 – Portland, OR – Wonder Ballroom
10.31.08 – Los Angeles, CA – El Rey
11.01.08 – San Francisco, CA – The Great American Music Hall
11.02.08 – San Francisco, CA – The Great American Music Hall

MP3 :::
13th Floor Elevators – Nobody to Love
13th Floor Elevators – Till Then
The Black Angels – Snake in the Grass (full 16 minute version)
The Black Angels – Dee-Ree-Shee

Whereas Mr. Beast was good, but not as remarkable as their earlier efforts, Mogwai is shaping up to release something really special next month if “Batcat” and “Devil Rides” are any indication.

I was totally psyched when I heard that the the mighty Roky Erickson, legendary psychedelic cult hero, was going to appear on the new Mogwai jam hive The Hawk is Howling, already notorious for its most triumphant track listing and flea market-worthy cover art. It’s quite amazing that Roky is not only still alive, but making music today (though most of it is only a shadow of the 13th Floor Elevators’ reach). I mean, how many languages can you say “fuck yeah” in? I can only say it in one, and that’s English, so I will commence into cheering a loud “fuck yeah” for (probably) the most important duet since Michael Jackson and Eddie Murphy’s “Whatzupwitu.”

At first, I wasn’t too sure of “Devil Rides,” a somber, spacey four-minute forlorn canticle. I felt it suffered from the same issue as their collaboration with Gruff Rhys on “Dail: Revenge” from Rock Action, in that Mogwai is such a musically complex group that any vocal contribution becomes more distracting than interesting. The composition itself is actually kinda similar to “Dial: Revenge” – slow, syrupy, packed with strings swells, absolutely gorgeous. Upon repeated listens, however, I’ve grown to be quite affected by “Devil Rides,” if for no other reason than tangential associations. Though Roky seems to have lost a little melodic quality to his voice, hearing this LSD-casualty (named “the man who got too high” by The Guardian) sing with such a pained demeanor, thinking about how this man has been through hell and back as documented by You’re Gonna Miss Me, really provokes an immense, beautiful sadness. I really love the sense of paranoia “Devil Rides” exudes as well, like you’re hangin’ out in the Panopticon. Needless to say, the Mogwai-Roky collaboration will probably not be a #1 summer jam.

Not much to say about the another new Mogwai song I have, “Batcat,” other than it’s another excellent stoner metal nickel in the jar, continuing Mogwai’s new economical, compact, harmonics-saturated, unapologetically sinister direction in the vein Mr. Beast’s “Glasgow Mega Snake.” This cut is heavier than most naval ships.

If you pre-order the album directly the Matador, you receive $1 plus a free poster. I appreciate how Matador consistently tries to hook you up. It’s good for business.

While we’re on this subject, it’s as good of time as any to express my love for the Elevators and post a jam or two. The 13th Floor Elevators continue to be one of my favorite groups, and I feel I get a new listening experience each time I pump them on the ol’ ghetto blaster. As with the often-fabled Alexander Skip Spence and Syd Barrett, Erickson’s batshit-craziness (including his writing of a notarized document proclaiming his secession from Earth, legally declaring himself an extraterrestrial – see below) adds a certain mystique to their repertoire that many of their contemporaries just can’t reproduce.

“Till Then” is one of my favorites, and also one of the last songs Roky recorded with the group before he was arrested in 1969 on trumped-up drug charges, then later institutionalized. “May the Circle Remain Unbroken,” so very very different from “Till Then,” is the 13th Floor Elevators at their most haunting. “Batcat” actually makes a rather astounding companion to “Circle,” being similar in its unsettling, elegiac mood – bridging a 40 year gap of music from a troubled yet revolutionary songwriter.

MP3 :::
Mogwai – Devil Rides
Mogwai – Batcat
13th Floor Elevators – Till Then
13th Floor Elevators – May the Circle Remain Unbroken