| | Frankly fellow freak-folks, I`ve often fought farcical notions of psychedelia that, implicit in the thwarted & demoralized rock uber-zeitgeist, or hitherto unknown bands like Dead Meadow, than what sound has really (or scene) been developing, whether replete with pastoral imagery or not. The challenge for Dead Meadow and their brethren since Feathers has so effluently fallen fluffishly like a Catherine Wheel made to serve the ticklish feet of altruism, was not the commitment to savantics so much as trend-setting, taken as a transitive verb obviously, trend-setting a line of purportedness weirdness. When audiences come to curtail their own expectations, THAT is when Dead Meadow will arrive. In an underworld of myopic meandering, as per Mr Ramsay`s comment made all the less ambiguous. Trust me. |