The 13th Floor Elevators, The Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators (1966)

I had a whole post written out talking about The 13th Floor Elevators‘ landmark 1966 debut, The Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators, and its cross-generational impact on psychedelic rock, counterculture and so on. Wasn’t the best thing I ever wrote, but I was reasonably pleased with it, and it got the point across that it was an album that had considerable influence that continues to be felt today and that the work of vocalist/guitarist Roky Erickson, guitarist Stacy Sutherland, bassist Ronnie Leatherman (Benny Thurman also plays on the record), drummer John Ike Walton and jug-blower Tommy Hall is worth considering as a watershed moment in underground rock, along with being widely regarded as a nexus point for American psychedelia and garage. I had that all ready to go. Then underneath that, I was bitching about other stuff and the whole thing got deleted. No going back to a past draft or anything, apparently, as WordPress moves forward with its continuous improvement program to fix what wasn’t broken the first time around, so it’s gone. Poof. Bye.

Should I have saved the draft earlier? I should’ve done a lot of things.

Not a bummer to put on the album again and re-revisit “You’re Gonna Miss Me” — I’m missing that text right about now — and the bizarre strains of “Monkey Island,” but I’d call it on the whole a pretty fair summary of how the week has gone. I’d be more upset, but not only am I too tired to approximate the sentences I had before and try and make the most of it, but I’m too tired to even be actively bummed out. Shit happens. It is what it is. And whether or not I wax poetic about its legacy, The Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators remains a great fucking album. The first of their three, and it’s more or less a blessing from the gods of acid. You can get that from listening whether or not I say so. No one reads this shit anyway.

Not even sure why I’m gonna put in a divider, since it’s not like I’m going from talking about the record to talking about something else, but whatever. One falls into these habits. Hope you enjoy the album.

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Quiet week. Unless you count that north-of-13 hours I spent sitting in traffic getting to and from work over the last five days. That was loud, at least in terms of the pounding in my head.

Gonna go see Godhunter and Destroyer of Light in Salem. Show is at a sushi bar. A sushi bar. Because even in Salem — a town quite literally most known for burning witches alive — no one has seen fit to open a metal venue. Massachusetts! Northeastern America’s capitol for living wrong. Anyone wanna not recycle and talk about Tom fucking Brady some more?

On NPR?

Jesus.

Whatever. Look for a review of that show Monday, and maybe one on Tuesday if I can get my ass out tomorrow night to see The Atomic Bitchwax vs. waiting to catch them next month in Providence. Not a huge fan of The Middle East, where they play tomorrow — what’s the matter, don’t like dark red lighting and nowhere to park? — but they’re the Bitchwax, so it’s at least a consideration. We’re actually staying in Mass. this weekend instead going to Connecticut, though to be honest I might strongly advocate to The Patient Mrs. tossing that plan out the window tomorrow morning and heading to the coast as quickly as possible. We’ll see. Vacuuming or the beach? Hmm…

But I figure fuck-everything mode is perfect for Godhunter, and I’ve yet to experience the affliction that sushi didn’t help, so it should be a decent night either way. And I just confirmed a Weedeater giveaway for next week, so right on for that as well. I’ll have a stream of the Shiggajon record too, and that’s pretty sweet.

See? It’s not all bad.

But losing drafts is. Save your work, kids.

Great and safe. Forum and radio.

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