Looking out for love - IN SEARCH OF SPACE #214

Following the year that brought us All About That Bass and Nicki Minaj’s Anaconda, it’s heartening to remember that far from being amoral meat-bags, humans are actually worth saving from some sort of catastrophic nuclear apocalypse, and if there were ever a reason for Dr. Manhattan to stop being such an emo up on Mars and save some of us, it would be the continued output of Fleetwood Mac. It goes without saying that your life is measurably poorer if you haven’t fully internalised (to the point of internal repetition) Big Love and The Chain, but their appeal goes deeper than just building rock and roll masterpieces that, while not as incisive and derisive as Primitive Man’s output, still conjure up something genuinely revolutionary in the soul.

The world needs backwoods psychedelica - Khun Narin's Electric Phin Band - IN SEARCH OF SPACE #213

The whole world’s’a psychedelic, man. Anywhere you go, from the backwoods towns of Mississippi to the dark druidic forests of Devon, the Soviet nuclear testing range at Semipalatinsk and the end-of-the-world Falklands, you’ll find a long and storied history of people getting jacked, loaded, ripped, torn, sold down the river or otherwise munted. Even the most puritanical societies, (including the Puritans themselves) got high on God. It’s a base human desire that ought to appear on the pyramid of needs, surprisingly near to the top. It’s a thirst or hunger needing quenched with surprising regularity. Either our lives are too tedious, or our bliss so persuasive that once every week everyone has to build a big ol’ campfire and drink or snort or inject and chill out. It’s out of this urge that rock and roll comes. We had to dance around that campfire to something, those beats rumbling through the forest thousands of years ago might not have had a name we can pronounce but every creature knew what they meant. The upright apes are getting their freak on.


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