"The Cost of One Admission is Your Mind"

I've recently discovered a band from the late 60's called The United States of America. I was initially skeptical of them, mainly because of their ridiculous band name (which, by the way, is not to be confused with a more recent stupid band name, The Presidents of the United States of America), but as it turns out, they're pretty good. They had one self-titled album, and it's very much an archetypical late 60's album. It's the kind of off-kilter psychedelia that, like the Velvet Underground, I listen to and think to myself, "This was really ahead of its time." Then I think about it and decide that's not true (aside from the use of electronics and the fact that they may be the only psychedelic band in history not to have a guitar player), and in fact, the late 60's is probably the only time in history when this album could possibly have been made. It's unabashedly weird, dreamy, spacy, and whatever other typical words usually get thrown at psychedelic music. It must have been great to create music in a time when you could be "psychedelic" without being too self-conscious about genre clichés.

You should be able to hear the first song from their album, "The American Metaphysical Circus," by clicking here (scroll down and click "Free" and it should work). This rapidshare website is great because now people can actually hear what I'm talking about (assuming I did it right).

Test

As you can see, I'm relaunching myself into the world of the weblog. As my profile states though, I'd rather this be seen more as a collection of articles than a collection of my daily routines and such. There won't be any "this is what happened to me today" entries here. And I've set it so that anybody can comment, not just members, so we can have more discussion than on my old one where people had to be registered members to comment.

I'm thinking about trying to get into a regular schedule too. Mondays and Thursdays maybe? We'll see how often I have things to write about.

More coming soon.

- Tom