What a menagerie of absolute nonsense this song is. The psychedelic movement in rock is, perhaps, the biggest insult to the talent that the Beatles possessed. Instead of going for masterfully crafted compositions and thoughtful, intense lyrics we get a load of malarkey pocked with ridiculous synth rips, meandering guitar riffs, and the “”soothing”” sounds of what sounds like a man farting into a kazoo.
The fade-in with the sitar is just horrendous, sounding like every other piece of psychedelic rock in the world. The whole composition feels like eighteen different songs crammed together over the laziest and monotonous drum beat that Ringo could drool out. There seems to be no coordination in any of the instrumentation save for, as previously mentioned, the boorishly boring drums that gives the listeners something to hold on to. One may say, however, that this is the point of psychedelic rock; to keep you confused and put you into some dream-like state. If that is the alleged point, consider me trypanophobic.
The tragedy only continues on with the pseudo-intellectual and “woke” lyrics. Such hot, meaningless garbage such as “Love is all/ and love is everyone” is not only redundant, but completely devoid of any meaningful content. With other duds such as “But listen to/ the color of your dreams” and “Lay down all thoughts/ surrender to the void” this song sounds like it was written by a fifteen year old who just smoked his first joint, bought a hacky sack, and is really into the pop-Rastafarian lifestyle pushed at him from the back corner of some smelly, dingy, and bizarrely warm strip-mall Hot Topic. The same sort of kid who wears a Beatles shirt only because he “like, totally digs the message.”
Fuck this song and fuck Bob Dylan for pressuring our nice Liverpool lads into smoking that harsh grass.
-Brendan C. Bush, co-creator and contributor of/to Heck Media