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  • Writer's picturerobertsavela

The psychedelic with Miles Davis and Rated X.






Sleep walking shadow people serious shit organ drone blur old photo ghost style on for years, intensity of space-beat neo-beats beat down and stars and ray gun-ish all stereotypes thrown out just pedal to the metal land of the free seven minutes of power engaging in liberating electric layers three hours from lightning one on top of the other like looking at the chakra points erasing the image of a sitting body push the belly button head to toe with all color and drop shadows at night and sound and touch and tasting the heavens world space the dead man writes beating along into nothing reminds me darkly don’t care myself.

Dark psych and massive textures of a David Lynch brain child variety turned in a white room pattern is ornament no windows maybe one chair for ambience on my face and floating things orbs no gravity in there with multiple perspectives planets and moons and suns. That one planet has three moons Luna inspiration a buck thousand feminine well-made and not silly at all and dialed in mono quick hooks movin’ fast and watch the road already hands on the wheel, boil round the dead, 1972 top down not so many colors at ya RPMs on the rise backed into a corner cheater slicks showing the whitest teeth, a doctor too.

Useful raw dirty grungy psych-jazz will always be out of place on this planet nothing like it original and confident like a covey of vampires spewing the drama on one constant action shot level with the brow both high and low all dark. Street and mansion, up and down, rich and poor – both hear the same melodic hint of color and beauty cloud of drops and in control of the chaos it gives off the nod, the nod scene the nod of indifference like starting my trip in the morgue, or how they do it in times of witchery bullets and Ouija essence, about 2%.

I’ve heard the geometric “horror” sounds critique with that organ on the verge of climax just around the corner just one line, watch it and don’t slip cause the operation might be illegal.

The church of the space-beat no-division space rock montage right now in 2020 I would say post-space-rock-method genres are dangerous, it has that hypnotic quality and layered shapes and nod and surface drone that ties it together we all follow. A series of similar symbols surreal happenings played out like a riff-extension technique. A power-in-simplicity life composed of a series of moments usually up in silver smoke every time each with its different narrative and mood. A mood ring font always changing color. Color in space. Unexpected results. Math spacy sonic Dionysus wine.





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