Hi y’all, we wanted to share this hilarious account of our good buddy Neil and his experience listening to “Your Psyche Is Showing” for the first time – we couldn’t stop laughing as we were reading this and thought you might enjoy it too… Generous Gods love you and hope you enjoy this as much as we did!
“It’s 1:25 a.m. and I’m driving through the Mojave on three buttons of Nuevo León’s most exemplary Peyote and a greenish-blue pill with what appears to be an ass-crack on it that I found on the floorboard while reaching for another canned margarita. I’ve been listening to this incantation of a record for two straight hours and MY psyche is showing. Two songs, each cutting me in distinct and precise ways. When I heard the line “amphetamine nose job fits her face,” I knew exactly that woman. Well, not THAT woman. In my case, it was a beautiful young man with the heart of a desert tarantula and the eyes of a pirate.
Fifteen miles past 29 Palms and the El Rancho Dolores Motel, the lyrics “and after the ash flew away the emptiness was left, wondering if life returns once visited by death” echoed their way down the corridors of my pink, swollen cerebral cortex and had me considering the past few years, how staggeringly fucked up they were, and if there will be reprieve on the other side for any of us. Just off the highway, the lights coming from the reservation are blurring into a stream of color and heat, which reminds me – I should have another margarita.
While not once have I heard the word “heartbroken,” I do hear the heart of a broken man or at least a breaking heart, not for lost love, but the unrealized idea, the unattained goal, and the avoidable death grip around the throat of a once-breathing country like the men under LA’s sixth street viaduct awaiting the slow hand of the inevitable to turn them loose. “A broken bottle full of New Orleans, a cheap suit and a flag for a tie, sweating blood on the salt of the earth.” The bastard is shining a light on the desert scorpions so they scurry under the billion-year-old Mojave rocks. But now that they’re here, these lizard men fill our single-story homes. With their crooked smiles, they shake our hands, pulling us close to empty our pockets while “promising wealth and a better life.”
Listening to the orange and yellow sounds swirl and bleed into the muffler reverberations off the asphalt, I find psychedelic gospel in the darkness: the temperatures drop, cactus flowers bloom, the valley coyotes hunt – the kind of harsh beauty and truth that can only be found in another man’s words under the moonlight. I’ve only ever been an observer and tonight a shit-eating, blathering one, listening to salient words and sounds passing through and around me. The lines between chaos and control, freedom and captivity, sanity and endeavors more diverting, are all here. It’s just after 3 a.m., the tubes from the amps are blown, and I’m wondering if they sell kerosene and margaritas at this Valero up ahead…
– Neil Coates, outlaw and desert dweller”
…amazing right? Click here if you want to listen to our Stereo 45, “Your Psyche Is Showing.” Be well y’all and love yourselves.
Peace and love,
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