There’s a classic record associated with every substance anyone’s ever gotten their heads twisted from. Potheads love Return to the 36 Chambers. I know mushroom freaks who swear by Bjork’s Homogenic for its trip synergy. About three bazillion people have had religious experiences from ecstasy mixed with Josh Wink’s “Higher State of Consciousness.” And I don’t even want to think about what kind of desperate abuse of household chemicals the Butthole Surfers’ Locust Abortion Technician has inspired.
Oddly, though, I can’t remeber ever hearing any recommendations for listening material to go along with the brain-scraping high of pseudoephedrine-heavy OTC allergy medicine, which leads to my current problematic situation. I can’t listen to anything mellow right now. It’s best not to try and counteract the speed; I need to roll with it, not fight it. The Wassup Rockers sound track–a compilation of LA Latino hardcore bands that’s gone largely unnoticed, probably because no one liked the movie–is almost there, but the vibe’s just a little off. I could imagine that drum and bass would maybe be right BPM-wise, but the bass lines are always a little too chill. (Plus I’ve sold all of my old Metalheadz compilations, so I can’t even test out my theory.) What I’ve settled on is the recent anthology of late-90s California power-violence group Jenny Piccolo. It’s chaotically fast and sloppy, the inchoate shrieking that they call “vocals” is a good representation of my inability to form a stable thought, and the brevity of their songs–averaging around thirty seconds–is a blessing.
The only problem is that I’m already more than halfway through the record’s 52 songs, and I’ve only got another 14 minutes before it ends. If you have any further suggestions, send them care of “the sweaty guy furiously cleaning his apartment.”