[Ended] WIN TIX to PSYCHIC ILLS @ The Crocodile in Seattle

Do you know that feeling where your head is slowly being coated in paraffin wax, and your bones are folding up like the accordion lens on a vintage folding pack Polaroid land camera, as the room fills up with the uppermost foam-like layer of a Jello 1-2-3 parfait?  Well, whether you do or not, if that sounds like an experience that you might be able to get behind, you should probably drag your ass down to a Psychic Ills show the next time that they come through your town.  [Hot tip: they’re currently touring.]  Although they really cracked through the surface with their 2006 debut full-length, DINS (Social Registry), 2013 marks the 10 year anniversary since the New York psych outfit was first assembled.  Over that time period, their brand of spaced-out muscle-relaxer psychedelia has mutated between pneumatic wormhole Tesla coil teleportation rides, extracting and liquifying skeletons like anti-matter tractor beams, to inverted neon quicksand desert haze rock, and a variation of the between.

Recent years have found them being labeled as “more accessible,” with some of the material that they have released, referred to as their “singles” by some (whatever they’ve made a video for), tendeding to reveal more structured Brian Jonestown Massacre-style leanings, as opposed to straight up aura exfoliating, sternum pelting sonic light.  If the jangly guitar with a morphine habit vibe is your bag, that’s awesome, but don’t be fooled friends; the swirling dimensional shifting chaos has in no way been abandoned.  I caught Psychic Ills a couple of years ago at the Funhouse here in Seattle–it was during their tour with Texas noise goblins, Indian Jewelry— and these guys were pumping out the type of wild, mind-twisting lunacy that completely transformed the now-defunct little dive club into an opium den from a Roger Dean painting.  The way that they move sound around is somewhat disorienting, but in a manner that is, simultaneously, oddly inviting, as if the music is the only thing that makes any sense and the rest of the physical environment doesn’t belong there.  The entire structural framework falls away and the crowd is elevated, floating off like Glenda in a DMT smoke bubble.  Expansive, drawn-out reverberating guitars push off and take warbling flight like a hang glider assembled out of  javelins, before slowly dissipating away like invisible ink.  Light, distant, hearing-test blips float up like seltzer bubbles through velour blankets of sound that are being pulled along like a conveyor belt on ectoplasm.  But, the calls are coming from within the house, or rather, the oscillation is coming from within the housing of your dome piece.  It’s vibrating your skull at the same frequency as a Tibetan singing bowl and the sound rings are creating a vortex that everything is being channeled in through.  In other words… shit gets weird, but it’s bound to affect the way you digest things when you’re breathing sound.

Psychic Ills will be coming back through Seattle this Monday, March 4th in support of their new Neil Michael Hagerty (Royal Trux, Howling Hex) produced full-length, One Track Mind (Sacred Bones) to perform with the likes of Folkazoid and Kingdom of the Holy Sun.  Wanna see them for free?  Fair enough.  Thanks to our pals at The Crocodile, we have a pair of tickets to give to one of youz clowns right now.


one track mind


*One winner will receive a pair of tickets to see the following show:

Psychic Ills
Kingdom of the Holy Sun
Live @ The Crocodile
Seattle, Washington
March 4, 2013


This contest will be based around the band’s name PSYCHIC ILLS.


Your job as the entrant is to answer the following question:  “If you could use your psychic powers of the mind to inflict some level of destruction, chaos, general misfortune, or illness towards anything, whether it be an individual, a geographical area, a regime, institution, what have you, what would it be and what would you do?


Post your answer in the comment section below.


There is no part 3. That’s all there is to the contest. It’s pretty easy… but you should probably read the fine print.

The Fine Print:

All entries must be received by Sunday, March 3nd at noon to be eligible.
You can enter as many times as you want, but use a valid email so that we can contact you.
If you sign in with Facebook, make sure that your account can accept a message from us.
Winner will be chosen arbitrarily, based on our personal “favorite.”

If you are not sure that you will be able to attend the show, do not enter! You’d be surprised how often that shit happens and we don’t want these going to waste.

If we are unable to contact the winner in a reasonable amount of time, a new winner will be chosen.

Dead C

Located in Seattle, Dead C is the founder/editor, as well as the principal writer and photographer, of Monster Fresh. Creating the site in 2007, he did so with a specific dream in mind. Unfortunately, being a muscle relaxer-fueled fever dream, it's hard to recall all of the details. "I remember that my mom was there, but it wasn't actually her in the dream, it was actually 70s heart throb, Jan Michael Vincent. And everything took place here, in this room... but it wasn't actually here... it was different. The colors were washed out and, for some reason, there was a raccoon kicking it with us and it was wearing a holographic monocle."

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