"Initially, the primary effect was the sense of being almost weightless with the combined impression that it was MY gravitational pull that was keeping the Earth in place. Because of the fact that I began my indulgence at two o'clock in the morning, the forest I was in was very dark. Therefore my visual distortions were not much greater than those experienced after three days awake under the influence of Methamphetamines. However, the arrival of dawn heralded the greatest visual experience I could have ever imagined; For the first time in my life, I saw colour. I am at the extreme end of the colour blindness scale, not quite monochrome, but close enough for me to misinterpret all but the most vivid of colours. Yet under the influence of LSD, my colour perceptions began to heighten. At first, I put this down to mere visual hallucinations, but steadily I began to notice, for the first time a difference in appearance between the leaves of a tree and its bark. Attempting to study this difference was at first difficult, due to the fact that the leaves were consistently changing into birds, faces, cakes, kites, etc... Once I had become accustomed to the intensely visual nature of the drug, I started to explore my surroundings in more depth.

Until this point, I had always relied upon the shade of an object to determine its colour; placing it into a 'grouping', such as red/green/brown, blue/purple/pink, orange/yellow/light-green and so on. During my LSD experience, it began to determine between what I can only describe as the 'hues' of colour. My inability to be any clearer is not due to lack of observation, but due to lack of reference point. Indeed, during one moment of intense elation, I remember giggling wildly, weeping at nature's real beauty and talking directly to the colours saying, 'I can see you, but I don't know what to call you...!' I then began to slip into a period of contentment and after a couple of hours of manic laughter, playing with the grass, the trees, the sky and my friends' face, I decided to calm down a little and begin a serious study of the effects upon my colour perception. Therefore, I initiated my friend into my experiments and we began testing with whatever was available. The most bizarre element to these experiments was the need to spend an hour learning all of the colours from scratch. Once I had a visual reference point, he tested me with various items, such as coloured pencils, leaves and magazines. We even attempted an online Ishihara Test for Colour Blindness, once we had retired indoors, but this was not successful due to the fact that the dots continually morphed into one another.

After several hours, my friend, who has unimpaired colour vision, determined that I could indeed see colour. However, due to the horrific and terrifying self-examination of the inner workings of my mind and the dark passages within, that occurred in the final six hours of my experience, I have decided that should I indulge again, I shall be a little more reserved with regards to my dosage. I have also come to the conclusion that I do not like the colour brown...! The only lasting effect I had with regards to colour sight was a deep longing to have it back...!"

Trip report from someone on LSD.

Source: http://www.erowid.org/experiences/exp.php?ID=28394

"What bothers me most is a noise that seems to randomly repeat itself in my head, and causes a great deal of mental and physical pain. It first starts as the empty static of a television and quickly crescendos to a tearing, grinding screech that gives me the impression of my mind being torn inside out through a very jagged hourglass. Pain creeps in my ears and meets somewhere in the centre of my brain. It causes convulsions. I am physically too incapacitated to go to the ER. On a mental and emotional level this is no less true, but I somehow decide they could little but sedate me. Probably, the average doctor knows relatively little, that is to say nothing, about 2C compounds. I wouldnt want to answer the questions afterwards anyways."

Trip report from someone on 2C-E.

Source: http://www.erowid.org/experiences/exp.php?ID=46907

"After t+1.30 trip starts. Relatively smooth come up, I felt just stretching, not much nausea nor other negative symptoms. We had a small walk in nearby woods, light excercise took care of the small anxiety that developed in the beginning. Now we are back at my home, my family is visiting my wife's parents for the week so we have no hurry anywhere. I place some ambient music to playlist and we lie down to listen after just a very small visit to bong. I feel cold and I shiver constantly, but it doesn't bother. Right now we listen to William Basinski - The River. I never knew anything could give experiences like this. The echoing sounds create kaleidoscopic looping patterns inside my head in seconds. These patterns are not just mere visuals, they consist of entire universes of meanings, as if stories of other lives.

The true trip starts. I snap out from deeper journey to put more blankets over myself a few times during the album, but fall back every time in a few seconds. I remember opening my eyes and watching the ceiling for a few seconds. It was a sea of patterns, ever changing, undulating back and forth. Real life seemed like a dream then and the new world created by the music was the real place with its diamond shaped patterns. I seem to touch something mystical, something which seems like a well guarded secret that only listeners of this album with the right state of mind can achieve. This truth is ineffable, like a very clever trick revealed to me. I travel through places, but I cannot describe them anymore. There are a few moments where I wonder if this is too much, as if those tricks that I had the chance to see for the first time were just too complicated and surprising for me to handle. But those overly intense moments pass and again I am no longer aware of routine reality.

Soon the album is over and I wake up to real world. I am slightly stunned. Ending of the music seemed like slowly closing a door to that other side, full of those revelations. I take some fruit salad and we continue to sink into another album, Propeller Island - The Garden. This also gives me extraordinary hallucinations, mystical states and ever changing, emotionally charged vivid thoughts and visionary patterns. This album was much smoother and brought me back from the deeps sometimes during the album, but nevertheless I am again amazed from tip to toes.

Those two out-of-this-world trips took a lot of energy and we end up just listening to more easy type of music, like Namlook, Steve Roach, Robert Rich and other classical ambient. The plateau ended around 7pm (t+5h) and long, slow and smooth transition back to normal consciousness begun. We smoked a good deal of weed and visited some friends during the landing period. I got some more weed from my friend R, the hippie. By midnight I was relatively free from effects of 2c-e, but really heavily stoned. I missed my bus and had to walk some 15km back home.

Later, after many trips and countless new journeys with the help of music, I know now that those tricks, revelations and visions had always been there inside those albums. Those tricks were hidden inside the sounds, but I simply needed an aid to find them. Now I can find them always, although much weaker than on that sunny summer day that I heard them for the first time. Psychedelics make me sensitive to all kind of information, patterns and subtle meanings that those sounds create. Normally I just never pay attention, they are too subtle. The very sensitive state of mind that these psychoactive drugs put me into, forces me to hear properly, to pay attention to details. It is this very phenomenon that I think is essentially what tripping, or psychedelic state of mind, is about.

I seek out patterns from all input I happen to have, my brain runs overclocked for those few hours, tuned in for all the signals that happen to pass my consciousness, were they in the form of sounds, images, tastes, touches or just my own brain feeding me some memories. There is some mighty machinery somewhere in my gray brain matter to do that pattern matching, it is trivial to see after even one psychedelic experience. Matching patterns, those tricks and revelations that I might find, can be so complicated that expressing them verbally to people in the ordinary realm of consciousness is simply impossible. That classical philosophical question whether we can verbally explain everything that we think is easily solved by psychedelic experience, at least in practical considerations.

When I look back and try to write even one of my many encounters with the world of psychedelics (like the one above), I realize the deed is too vast to fulfill in one lifetime. Sadly too, this task cannot be split into parts, expressing one single thought is one undividable task. Even with all the resources in the world I couldn't make it easier to accomplish, there is no help from recruiting a hundred secretaries to write the text for me."

Trip report from someone on 2C-E.

Source: http://www.erowid.org/experiences/exp.php?ID=51296

Should Metal be taught in college?

Right now metal is in the position jazz was in the sixties. It's reached a point where it is resonant with "serious music" so all these techniques and concepts from that tradition are seeping in. Death metal more so than black metal, but black metal too to a degree. So I think we're ready for an exciting time of post-vernacular but pre-academic existence (like bop and free jazz) - where really interesting things are going on, but it's still all open and free. Then from there it will die just like jazz, at which point it will be taught in colleges, which will be too bad.

Hunter Hunt-Hendrix (Liturgy)

Source: http://www.spinner.ca/2010/03/08/sxsw-2010-liturgy/

Do you think that nowadays techno and electro can still be treated as futuristic music?

I think that these styles are the music of now -- not tomorrow. In fact, the structure of what we're doing today is the same as in 1980, so in many ways we've gone back, not forward. I think until Dance Music producers see the need to advance, they won't. People seem to be quite happy with what they're hearing, if they weren't we would surely see and feel their dissatisfaction. There might have to be strong reasons to reach further than what we're doing right now. "Future Music" is defined as music that comes as the result of Futuristic thoughts. I'm not sure how many people in the Techno Music Scene today are thinking about Tomorrow and what it could be.

Jeff Mills

Source: http://www.clubbingspain.com/especiales ... mills.html

"We postulate that man is an artifact designed for space travel. He is not designed to remain in his present biologic state any more than a tadpole is designed to remain a tadpole. This postulate, agreed upon, gives us a standard evaluation. Is a proposed course of action conductive to realizing space conditions? Art, science, technology, what is it contributing to the space program? As for individuals, ask yourself - would I like to be in space with that person? Postulate that there is no privacy and no deceit possible in space: Your innermost thoughts, feelings and intentions are immediately apparent to those around you. So you want to be careful who is around you. And what has prevented the Johnsons from realizing their potential for space travel? Who is keeping us from realizing our biological and spiritual destiny? These people are known as shits. They can't mind their own business, because they have no business of their own mind any more than a smallpox virus. The mark of a basic shit is that he has to be RIGHT. And in order to be RIGHT he has to make someone else WRONG. We know that the shits will take action against us since they are artifacts specifically designed to keep us out of space."

William S. Burroughs, taken from The Adding Machine: Selected Essays, p. 85.

"I hear a bell sound. I then realize it is not a bell, but my heart beat. It has seemed to increase tremendously. But rather than a thump, it is a ringing."

Trip report from someone on 5-Meo-DMT.

Source: http://www.erowid.org/experiences/exp.php?ID=17740

"Music has always been an integral part of religion and has been considered sacred by virtually every human society because of its capacity to evoke transcendence. And it is the most common vehicle of transcendence in our current society. Most of us have "lost ourselves" in music at one time or another, while the popularity of the current dance (rave) culture is a clear example of how music and dance can enable us to transcend our normal consciousness. This is not surprising, since music is based on scales and harmony that are in themselves a product of our natural world, despite what instruments we may invent to recreate them. Those same notes, scales, and harmonic values appear throughout both the inanimate universe (as shown by the B-flat vacuum-pressure wave discovered traveling through the zero-point field) and the world of biology. For example, the coherent whole-system behavior of the cells, organs and organ systems of an organism has been compared to "a good jazz band" by experimental biophysicist Mae-Wan Ho. The "music" of a higher organism ranges over more than seventy octaves. These scales and harmonies undoubtedly have a cosmic origin. One interpretation of the zero-point field is the idea that all matter has a signal, so it's the signal (or note) that causes reality, not the actual particles and atoms themselves."

James Oroc, taken from Tryptamine Palace: 5-MeO-DMT and the Sonoran Desert Toad, p. 230.

"At this point I have also at times heard a sound - and this is another experience commonly reported by tryptamine smokers - that grows to become the most incredible, all-encompassing note, which somehow transcends all of creation and beyond. It is pure otherwordly angel music, which I can only describe with the word Aum (or Om): the primordial noise, the logos, or original sound of creation. This is a transcendental note into which I effortlessly dissolve."

James Oroc, taken from Tryptamine Palace: 5-MeO-DMT and the Sonoran Desert Toad, p. 9.

"Underground Resistance's music embodied a kind of abstract militancy by presenting themselves as a paramilitary group fighting against commercial mainstream entertainment industry who they called "the programmers" in their tracks such as Predator, Elimination, Riot or Death Star. Similarly, the label +8 was formed by Richie Hawtin and John Aquaviva which evolved from industrial hardcore to a minimalist progressive techno sound. As friendly rivals to Underground Resistance, +8 pushed up the speed of their songs faster and fiercer in tracks like Vortex. However, it was the drug-fueled dynamic of Ecstacy and amphetamine abuse that drove Detroit's hardcore techno scene to the extremes of "brain-dead brutalism". What had started as a value system of elegance over energy, restraint over abandon shared by "purists" of traditional Detroit techno evolved through mutation into a mind-spinning, hardcore mix of trance, jungle, and bleep-and-bass."

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Detroit_techno

"One will always end up pigeonholed and misunderstood when trying to do something different."

Snorre Ruch (Thorns)

Source: http://www.believermag.com/issues/20080 ... cle_stosuy

Marijuana in the Lives of Americans, by William Novak.

*

For the American smoker, listening to music is almost as basic to the marijuana experience as matches and ashtrays; one user speaks of a "hunger for music" whenever she smokes. The phenomenal growth in the recording and stereo components industries and the spectacular boom in FM radio over the past two decades are directly related to the rise in marijuana consumption.

Smokers continually claim that music sounds "richer" when they are stoned. As was the case with eating, scientific investigation in this area has turned up very little, probably because researchers have been asking the wrong questions.

While most of the studies involving auditory perception under the influence of marijuana have concentrated on the hearing abilities of smokers, in actual fact smokers do not claim to hear better, but rather that music sounds better, a crucial difference. Marijuana users do not report that the drug enables them to distinguish unusually high or low notes, or to hear very soft sounds; they claim rather, to hear sounds differently, more vividly and more intensely. Some researchers have concluded that the reports of smokers regarding music are too subjective to be taken seriously, but this is too narrow and self-defeating a view; the experience, after all, is subjective, and it may be impossible to measure in scientific ways.

Clearly, there is a process by which marijuana affects the hearing of its users, but it seems more likely that changes are mental rather than purely auditory. As Andrew Weil explains it, cannabis affects the secondary perception of sensory data, not its primary reception. It would naturally be easier to study the functioning of the human ear than to explore how the brain interprets what the ear receives. But that, very likely, is where the answers lie.

Weil suggests that incoming sensory information, such as the auditory signals that represent music, normally follow established and familiar pathways as they travel from their source to human consciousness. Weil believes that marijuana may interfere with the normal routing of these sensations, forcing the sensory data to find "novel routes to consciousness and thus be perceived in novel ways." This explanation, he suggests, would help account for many smokers' claims that when they are high, they see things for the first time "as they really are," or why they pay special attention to aspects of auditory or visual sensations that they might otherwise fail to notice.

I asked marijuana smokers to tell me exactly which music selections they found most enjoyable when they were stoned, but the responses covered the entire range of popular and classical music. These days, in contrast to the 1960's, smokers generally listen to the same music whether or not they are high. The "acid rock" phenomenon of a few years ago, in which certain rock music was designed to appeal deliberately to the stoned listener, seems to have faded, probably because it is no longer necessary.

Many younger smokers assert that the real value of marijuana in listening to music is that it enables them to understand and more fully respond to the lyrics of the songs they listen to, especially those that otherwise appear difficult or obscure. But by far the most familiar claim made by smokers is that marijuana enhances the ability to hear the distinct lines of several instruments at once, helping the listener to better grasp how the various instruments interact to produce the music:

"When I'm high, I can hear all the individual parts of the music playing together to create a harmonious whole. I never heard music this way before I started smoking grass. Sometimes it feels almost as if I become the music, not only hearing it but feeling it and seeing it, absorbing it until it becomes part of me. Each instrument and voice takes on an identity of its own while continuing to be true to the whole. In short, when I'm high, I realize why music is considered one of the arts."

Similarly, several smokers mentioned that it was under the influence of marijuana that they first understood and appreciated the purpose and the effects of stereo. A Radcliffe student who had been having trouble in her music course and was unable to recognize individual selections found marijuana to be very helpful. She had formerly listened mostly to rock, and she gradually realized that it made fewer demands on the listener than the music she was now studying. One night she got stoned and listened to a Bach harpsichord concerto:

"I don't have to tell you the beauty of it; I shouldn't have had to get stoned to hear that. But it all made sense; I heard the orchestra imitating the harpsichord, then turning what it was doing upside down into inversions. And I went into Leona's room and she gave me the score with this half-smile on her face. Even though I couldn't hear the music then, I could follow the lines, hearing and seeing three or four parts at a time. And during this time, I was almost crying, thinking: "This is real; I may be on a drug, but this is here all the time!"

She has since learned to appreciate music without marijuana, an example of integrating stoned consciousness into her straight life. But she hasn't given up smoking, explaining that "it still helps to have my hearing sort of opened up every now and then, so I can hear many parts going on at once." The ability to distinguish various musical lines can make the stoned listener more sensitive than usual to the differences between individual instruments, as an Iowa man explains:

"I greatly enjoy listening to loud rock music on the stereo when I'm stoned. The rhythm seems more solid and inspiring, and each cymbal, each drum, each guitar and every other instrument and voice seems more distinct, more clear. I really get into the music and feel immersed in the bass, with all the other instruments cutting through and the parts fitting so intricately together.
I sometimes use headphones for a better stereo effect. The music seems even more realistic, and feels like it's not only around me, but inside my head. The instruments and parts move from the left channel to the right, and vice versa, and seem to be running around inside my head, which makes it more intense. Sometimes I close my eyes and fantasize that I'm back at the concert with all its excitement."

Several smokers spoke of various mental and visual associations stimulated by listening to music when they were high. For example, hearing a saxophone will make Claire aware of the breath that goes through the instrument. She says she can often see the instrument in her mind and can make out the discrete finger movements of the musicians. Other stoned listeners use the occasion to let their minds wander:

"As you listen, your mind makes you think. You get a kind of fantasy out of an enlarged imagination, depending on what you're listening to. With Marshall Tucker, you think of ripping across the desert on a bullet-speed horse in search of wild women and hard times. Listen to Loggins and Messina and you will sail on a boat as you lie on your couch, feeling the wind in your hair, and sincerity in your heart. Some people really get into it with acid rock and feel as though they are in front of the crowd playing the music, tossing their hair back and forth and sweating as they rip the damn chords off the guitar. It's reality taken by fantasy, cooked in your mind and poured back out, with the mind putting it all together as it goes along at no set pace."

In most cases this kind of mental wandering enhances the music, but for at least one listener, this is not the case:

"I have listened stoned to some of the most emotionally committed singers in rock and blues—Robert Johnson, Bob Dylan, Muddy Waters, Van Morrison—musicians who constantly surprise me and move me under normal circumstances. Instead of getting an enhanced sense of whatever terrors and delights they are singing about, I just get the giggles. I can't help imagining their faces wrenched into comically distorted grimaces as they sing."

For the majority of smokers, though, music is made more enjoyable and more expansive by marijuana. A man who used to be a jazz critic pays special attention to the rhythm and the percussion of the music he listens to while stoned:

"When I started smoking, I got into music, listening with rapt attention for a long time, especially to jazz. I started to hear music differently, and it's related to my experience of time. Rhythm, after all, is sound occurring in time; it's not just the pitch or the timbre which makes music, but the way the notes are spaced out. When music is really together in time, like a good jazz group playing, or African drummers, where precise perception of time is a fundamental aesthetic ingredient—I really appreciate that when I'm stoned.
Time is flowing and music is constant movement. You can't ever stop and grasp it, it's always moving... but when time is perfect, when everybody is together, it just floats and then becomes solid. I can't describe it beyond that. It's just a solid thing happening, like a huge rock, or a wall; it's just there."

His wife, a musician, reports a similar experience:

"Since I've been smoking pretty regularly, I think I have become more aware of some subtleties I had been missing before. Things like cross-rhythms and unusual harmonic functions have started to jump out at me. Before, it would have taken several hearings or playings to find them. Now, they seem to find me."

Younger smokers speak enthusiastically of going stoned to rock concerts or, more often, of getting stoned during the concert:
I went slightly buzzed to a Jethro Tull concert and planned on smoking a whole lot during the show. I ate a bag of peanuts and some pretzels before the music began, and then resumed smoking once they started playing. I lit joint after joint, bowl after bowl, waiting to get blown away, but not even giving myself a chance to feel what I had already smoked. The music was great. I remember watching a fabulous drum solo which was so perfect and exact that my mind just couldn't grasp it. The solo went on and on, hard and powerful; it ran strong and intricate, yet its end was never predictable. Just as I thought it would end, the drummer would roll out again and keep it going. Finally, when he did stop, I was exhausted.

While younger smokers are attending rock concerts, relatively older users are becoming increasingly interested in other kinds of music, particularly jazz and classical, a trend that is almost certain to continue in the next few years. Jenny, a therapist, recalls a college experience that changed her musical tastes:

"I was taking a course in music appreciation, and it was the first time I really listened to classical music. We studied Beethoven's Third Symphony, and took it apart piece by piece, instrument by instrument, and talked about it as a composite structural entity, a blending of many different parts into one complete unit.
So there I was, one night in my apartment, with two friends who were also taking this course. We got very stoned and started listening to the symphony. I started conducting, and my friends took on the task of playing, imaginarily, various instruments. By this time I knew the piece cold. But I also felt what made those instruments work together, what made the music so great. I was on top, in command of the synthesis of these various component parts, and it was incredible. I was at one with the music. I heard the beauty of how it all blended together, and the genius of the outcome was phenomenal."

"Every time you hear a piece of music," says Lenny, "you get another memory of it, and you build up a tape of how it sounds—in your mind. Each time you take it in, you're comparing it to a previous time, and it usually is pretty close. Eventually you get used to it; 'oh that,' you say, 'the Eroica.' But when you're stoned, it suddenly comes in differently, at double volume, as it were, and it just doesn't fit against the tape. So you end up hearing the music in a whole new way."

*

Source: http://www.druglibrary.org/special/nova ... lture3.htm

Marijuana in the Lives of Americans, by William Novak.

*

"The first thing I noticed was that I began to hear the saxophone as though it was inside my head.... All the notes came easing out of my horn, like they's already been made up, greased and stuffed into the bell, so all I had to do was blow a little and send them on their way, one right after the other, never missing, never behind time, all without an ounce of effort", said Mezz Mezzrow, from Really the Blues.

Jazz musicians have long known that marijuana leads to a greater enjoyment of the music. Some, like the venerable Mezzrow, have claimed it makes them play better as well. Others disagree. A jazz pianist who has observed marijuana use over several decades says:

"Our experience in the band is that very often we thought we were terrific, ingenious, clever and swinging, and then we would discover that we had been playing the same thing over twenty-five times. When we heard a recording of what we had played, we knew it was ridiculous, changing keys all over the place where we weren't supposed to.

The folk-belief among musicians is that marijuana made you think you played better, but that you actually played worse. And I think that's how it was. The confusion is due to a second folk-belief among the listeners: they thought that we thought that marijuana made us play better, but they were wrong. It did help us enjoy what we were doing, but we didn't think it improved our music at all."

Still, some musicians do find marijuana useful, if not for performing, at least for practice sessions. "It takes away my inhibitions," says a guitarist, "and lets me learn from my mistakes, which is normally not so easy." A mandolin player in a bluegrass group reports:

"I might smoke before practicing. I play in a group, and I'll sit down and do a couple of hits to put a little edge on while I'm playing. When I'm stoned, I can visualize musical relationships more easily. The other day, I was practicing scales on the mandolin, double lines of scales in intervals. Playing them high, I made more sense out of them, and finally understood when and how they might be useful in my playing."

A flute and saxophone player finds that marijuana is detrimental when he practices, causing him to forget what key he is in, for example, or presenting difficulties in reading music. But when he plays something familiar, marijuana can sometimes help:

"If I'm confident of what I'm playing, pot can magnify the experience: the feel of the horn, the breath, the subtle intonation changes, the vibrations from the lips. The notes slide out like aromatic coffee beans from a sack, until the whole experience is so sharply sensed it's almost unbearable.

This can lead to trouble, too, because if you're not careful, you can get carried so far away by the sound of your own instrument that you stop hearing the others. Or, similarly, you can get so delighted with the patterns your fingers are making that you start watching yourself play instead of actually playing."

Another musician says that he doesn't play when he's high because he loses control of his instrument, even though he finds that smoking can be helpful in encouraging the spontaneity that jazz requires: "The notes go straight from the head to the fingers with no rationalization in between." But a pianist in the same group has a different experience:

"When I play stoned, I really think I play better. This is partly because I relax more (that good old tension-relieving aspect of the weed), and partly because I seem to be more aware of the flow of the whole thing. I don't just play chords and lines; I seem to feel the whole continuum of whatever it is I'm doing. I know where the music is going, and I'm conscious of the process of getting there.
I also become more aware of muscular movements. It's good to do technical practice while you're stoned, because it really feels like exercise—like calisthenics for the hands. I had my most recent technical breakthrough when I was high. I finally got that little wrist movement that lets the really good keyboard players play so smoothly that you can't even tell when they change hand positions. I haven't gotten it yet with my left hand, though; I ran out of weed!"

*

Source: http://www.druglibrary.org/special/nova ... lture3.htm

"My roommate lead me downstairs where he got out his sitar which has a contact mic on it so you can plug it into an amplifier. This is where the perception of time was lost. The basement looked gigantic, probably three or four times its actual size. It is littered with cords from electronic instruments but the cords seemed to stretch on for miles, intertwined with everything in the room. My roommate started to play the sitar, the other the drums. I was overtaken by beauty with the music they were playing. I felt totally ecstatic and I was unable to tell if I was also playing music with them or not. I was just lying still on the floor. I had a great feeling of spiritual transcendence. There seemed to be infinite meaning in the sound of the sitar, it glowed with a pure light. The song seemed to go on forever, but when they finally stopped playing I told them I thought it was beautiful. I was almost near crying."

Trip report from someone on Mushrooms and Methoxetamine.

Source: http://www.erowid.org/experiences/exp.php?ID=90094

"Very much similar to early Ministry, like "Land of Rape and Honey" which kind of mutated into something due to those circumstances – it became its own genre. And that's interesting. I remember doing "Land of Rape and Honey" – surprisingly (laughs) considering how much hallucinogenics… went into that record – amongst other things – and thinking at the time, "Goddamn, this is fun!" This is like uncharted waters."

Al Jourgensen, 2011.

Source: http://rocksalt.mx/?p=867