It’s All Happening :: Last Night I Got Stoned and Listened to Music

IAH-StonedPlaylistI love making playlists when I’m freshly baked, picking songs and a soundtrack to carry me straight in to my burn out.

Scanning my iTunes and record collection, or being stoned in record stores, having the the owner play me his personal favourites. Atmoshpere says, “Stop pretending that it [drugs] makes better music.” Maybe it doesn’t, but it sure as shit makes music better.

Spacemen 3, My Bloody Valentine, seminal stoner rock, shoe-gaze. . . an epic start.

Kooky shit like the Television Personalties and Syd Barrett. Good old school hip-hop, The Stooges and Count Five.

My playlist starts with an electric cluster of awesome, each song better than the last, appreciating every sound in every bar, every note. . . .

After 20 minutes of this, I begin to mellow out and start planning which albums I’m going to listen to, from and back.

I start thinking classics: The Kinks, The Troggs, early Patti Smith. I’m stoked because I forgot how much sweet music I had. After 15 minutes, I tire of it – I have the attention span of a four-year-old, and start hunting for new sounds!

A string of great albums have been released this month – everyone from Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti to Thee Oh Sees’ Putrifiers II, as well as some serious disappointments.

Did anyone listen to the swill Band of Horses is trying to pass off as an album these days? Take my word for it and let it Cease To Begin (my new favourite album I discovered).

Ariel Pink’s Mature Themes.

I think Pink is more of a cult than a band, especially after Spin and Pitchfork both released in-depth interviews that delved deep into his seriously disturbed psyche; all I wanted was more and so does everyone else.

A friend called me a few days ago just to inform me, “Ariel Pick, got a hair cut!”

I actually cared a lot.

The whole album is eerie, melodic and crazy – a perfect album as my already heavy eyes become impossibly heavier.

I am very tired and burnt out.

Beach House, Beach Fossils, Beach Boys.

Time for sleepy sounds.

Good night. . . .

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