Sweet Waste From Hell

Early-80s new-wave horror-hard-rock splatter. It took me years of loving this record and wishing it were different, before I realized how great it is, just as it was made.

The basic story can be found online-- Roky (pronounced Rocky apparently, though my whole life I always said "Roke-ey" and no one ever knew who the hell I was talking about so no one ever corrected me-- that's the pre-internet era in a nutshell) was a gleaming star of the bright new psych era in mid-1960s Texas.

He founded the hugely influential Thirteenth Floor Elevators, whose lyrics named this blog and have been an inestimable influence on me (and, more importantly, bazillions of others). He was apparently a self-aware, spiritual dude who liked to push some boundaries with his drug use.

Over the years this has become an "acid made him crazy" story. This may be at least partially true. These things happen. Lots of psychedelics and an unquiet mind can lead bad places.

It appears though that what really pushed things in the wrong direction was that, as a figurehead of a dangerous youth scene, Texas authorities hounded the hell out of him. Eventually he was caught with a single joint. His lawyer arranged for him to go to a mental hospital for the criminally insane, instead of long years in prison. Presumably this sounded like a good idea at the time, but they experimented with him there, using pretty abrasive techniques (electroconvulsive therapy among others) to banish his troublesome personality. He was never quite right afterwards: it seems like all the light turned to pain and negativity. Well, on the cusp of the 1980s that probably made a lot of sense too. I think of demons too, when I think of Ronald Reagan.

By the mid-70s he'd started making music again, and abandoned the relatively gentle trajectory of the Elevators, whose folky music was mostly about mind expansion, for abrasive hard rock based on horror movie themes. This album was one of the products of that time, though it wasn't released until 1980 or so.

Apparently he wasn't in very good shape through most of the intervening years. In 2007 however he started touring again, apparently having gotten enough help from family members to stay focused well enough to rock out. Since these songs are pretty uniformly dark-side, it may be hard to imagine them seeming like a beacon of love and hope. But, hearing him rock the hell out of them at that show was one of the most joyous concert experiences I've ever had.

http://www.mediafire.com/file/zzm5xingojm/Roky Erickson & The Aliens- The Evil One.zip

One last thing: Merry Christmas.

Where the Gods of Gold Are Heard But Seldom Seen

http://www.mediafire.com/file/jzrmeymionj/Thirteenth Floor Elevators- Easter Everywhere.zip

One of my desert island discs, pure acid-fried granola. The cover of Baby Blue is really something.

Recording quality throughout is heavily dusted garage-psych, layers of reverb and echo and completely gummy & distorted.

I love it so.

I saw Roky Erikson a couple years ago, an amazing show. He was totally on fire and seemed happy and together.

From the Egg into the Flower

from

http://www.texaschapbookpress.com/magellanslog3/slipinside.htm:

1. Bedouin tribes ascending
from the egg into the flower,
alpha information sending
state within the heaven shower
from disciples the unending
subtleties of rhythm power.
They slip inside this house as they pass by.

2. If your limbs begin dissolving
in the water that you tread,
all surroundings are evolving
in the stream that clears your head,
find yourself a caravan
like Noah must have led,
and slip inside this house as you pass by.

3. Slip inside this house as you pass by.
True conception, knowing why,
brings even more than meets the eye.
Slip inside this house as you pass by.

4. In this dark we call creation
we can be and feel and know
from an effort, comfort station,
that's surviving on the go.
There's infinite survival in
the high baptismal glow.
Slip inside this house as you pass by.

5. There is no season when you are grown.
You are always risen from the seeds you've sown.
There is no reason to rise alone.
Other stories given have sages of their own.

6. Live where your heart can be given,
and your life starts to unfold
in the forms you envision
in this dream that's ages old.
On the river layer is the only sayer.
You receive all you can hold,
like you've been told.

7. Every day's another dawning.
Give the morning winds a chance.
Always catch your thunder yawning.
Lift your mind into the dance.
Sweep the shadows from your awning.
Shrink the fourfold circumstance
that lies outside this house.
Don't pass it by.

8. Higher worlds that you uncover
light the path you want to roam.
You compare there and discover
You won't need a shell of foam.
Twice born gypsies care and keep
the nowhere of their former home.
They slip inside this house as they pass by.

9. Slip inside this house as you pass by.
You think you can't, you wish you could.
I know you can, I wish you would
slip inside this house as you pass by.

10. Four and twenty birds of Maya
baked into an atom you
polarized into existence,
magnet heart from red to blue:
to such extent, the realm of dark
within the picture it seems true,
but slip inside this house and then decide.

11. All your lightning waits inside you.
Travel it along your spine.
Seven stars receive your visit.
Seven seals remain divine:
seven churches filled with spirit,
treasure from the angels' mine.
Slip inside this house as you pass by.

12. Slip inside this house as you pass by
The space you make has your own laws.
No longer human gods are cause.
The center of this house will never die.

13. There is no season when you are grown.
You are always risen from the seeds you've sown.
There is no reason to rise alone.
Other stories given have sages of their own.

14. Draw from the well of unchanging.
Its union nourishes on
in the right re-arranging
till the last confusion is gone.
Water-brothers trust in the ultimust
of the always singing song they pass along.

15. One-eyed men aren't really reigning.
They just march in place until
two-eyed men with mystery training
finally feel the power fill.
Three-eyed men are not complaining.
They can yo-yo where they will.
They slip inside this house as they pass by.
Don't pass it by.
--Roky Erickson & Tommy Hall.