Pause on Vibrate

One of the things I love about truly great psychedelic music is its intrinsic relationship with process. The current indie landscape favors immediacy in a way that really separates it from the one I knew when I started getting into the culture, as artists mainly strive to build up to and hit that one chord at the exact, perfect time and maybe save a listener or two's life for the time being. With "tracks" battling it out on shuffle, it's understandable that this approach should be the most effective way to increase play counts in peoples' increasingly diverse libraries. But I don't really think results like that are the end-all be-all, and I've found myself feeling nostalgic lately for the disorientation and intrigue I used to experience upon first listening to a Highly Recommended Album, as well as the amount of time I'd spend with it. Listening on headphones (while sitting still), I'd make an effort to let all the weird sounds surprise me and, eventually, sink in to the point where it was just that moment in that song.

Psychedelic music basically gives you two choices: tune in to the vibe, or turn off. Tuning in involves altering your state either chemically or by listening very closely and being receptive. It's the latter that attracts me, especially lately, and it's safe to say that the amount of music I've been taking in has dropped significantly as a result. It feels good; not only have I managed to vanquish the post-sugar rush ennui that mp3 culture so easily induces, but I've also rekindled my love affair with the process of exploring vaguely known but often overlooked artists. Currently, I've been sucked in by Sam Shalabi's Eid. While it's not exactly a perfect album (none of his are, except maybe Shalabi Effect's The Trial of St. Orange), it has some amazing moments and the sequencing is pretty nice. There are a few really good songs there, especially the heavy title song and the lovely "Billy the Kid (Part 2)", but my favorite is definitely "Jessica Simpson". What's jarring in the tune becomes very affecting after a few listens, but I'll spare you the spoiler and just point you to the Alien8 label's site, where you can stream the entire thing.



The other album I've been enjoying on long bus rides is Houston psychedelic icons The Red Krayola's 1967 album The Parable of Arable Land. I love the way that, on the album, this tune grabs the torch from an exhilirating exploratory passage and just runs with its energy, shouting, "War sucks!":