Wednesday 30 Jul

Power Pyramid - The God Drums

Power Pyramid doesn’t have much patience for nonsense. That appears to be the takeaway from the Oklahoma City quintet’s last 10 months, which brought The God Drums in September, the Insomnia EP in January and its latest, self-titled effort in July.

07/29/2014 | Comments 0

TJ Mayes - "When Love Comes Down"

’50s era rock ’n’ roll had been long overdue for a rebirth. Thankfully, the stockpile of capable luminaries has not been in short supply over the past few years. 

07/23/2014 | Comments 0

Boare - "playdatshit"

The world is in the midst of an electronic music renaissance, and you find most of this boon of producers laying claim to the club-friendly, bass-dropping variety, holing up in the the free-flowing world of hip-hop beatmaking or pitching their tent on the out-there, boundary-pushing EDM camp.
07/23/2014 | Comments 0

Broncho - "Class Historian"

Broncho has never been hurting in the hook department. The success of the trio’s 2011 debut, Can’t Get Past the Lips, was predicated mostly on its ability to marry melodies with kinetic guitar riffs and anarchic energy. Yet we’ve heard nothing to the degree of pure pop catchiness on display in “Class Historian,” the new single from Broncho’s upcoming sophomore album, Just Enough Hip to Be Woman.
07/23/2014 | Comments 0

Manmade Objects - Monuments

No one wants to be forgotten; everyone wants some sort of legacy, a mark they leave behind as they exit this life for whatever lies beyond.

And for as long as there has been death, there have been monuments — whether austere or understated, abstract or concrete, prominent or tucked away in private — erected by the ones they loved to assure that remembrance, at least for a time.
07/15/2014 | Comments 0
Home · Articles · Music · Music · Psyched up

Psyched up

D.C. psychedelic rockers Dead Meadow are reveling in the genre’s rebirth.

Joshua Boydston February 26th, 2014

Dead Meadow with We the Undead and Cobra Jab

8 p.m. Tuesday

The Conservatory

8911 N. Western Ave.



As a new generation of youth absorbs psychedelic classics like The 13th Floor Elevators, Roky Erickson and Pink Floyd, others take it upon themselves to spawn new renditions of that familiar, swirly groove. All the while, the comparatively venerable Dead Meadow nods in approval.

The trio was peddling those trippy dirges and swollen, guitar-driven voyages into the deepest, darkest recesses of the dream cycle for over a decade before they came back into vogue. They were long accustomed to their outcast roles in the hipper-than-thou D.C. punk and indie scene. But the collective is grinning from ear to ear now that its flavor of choice is once again the belle of the ball, not only for its own sake — after skating by with niche, nostalgic crowds for so long — but for that scene as a whole.

“It’s so cool that there’s a younger group of kids who are getting into psych music,” singer/guitarist Jason Simon said. “It felt like it was dying, but it has come back in such a big way.”

You could say Dead Meadow, which plays Tuesday at The Conservatory, was celebrating the rebirth of psychedelic rock in the most literal way imaginable in crafting its latest album, Warble Womb.

That title is as much a mission statement as it is a pleasant alliteration, a viscous, enveloping collection of songs intent on seeping into your skull and sloshing around.

“It’s an apt description for the music we want to make,” Simon said. “You want this warm space, something you can get inside … a record that lets you occupy the mental space it creates.”

It’s the latest studio album for Dead Meadow, which put out a string of records through Matador (Pavement, Yo La Tengo, Interpol) in the mid-2000s before self-releasing its previous two through bassist Steve Kille’s Xemu Records label.

Warble Womb was the first to be self-recorded and produced, though, a kid-in-a-candy-store mentality of tinkering and experimenting, which explains the longer-than-normal gestation period.

“It was nice to stretch out in our own studio,” Simon said. “There’s usually this hurried pressure, but it suited us to take our time.”

The final product is certainly more mountain than mole hill for all the time spent on it; Warble Womb is over seventy minutes of hypnotic fever dreaming erected as a monument to the current psych-rock resurrection.

“There was this choice between cutting the material in half or just being like, ‘Fuck it. Let’s put it all out there and see what people dig,’” Simon said. “So much work goes into every step of the process, you might as well make it an epic album.”

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