In the meantime, in the way of fucked up, psychedelic freakfuckouts, I offer thee Stockholm's The Janitors. Serving up trebly, heavily hallucinatory riddims to warm your karma by, The Janitors deliver cleverly crafted drug rock appropriate for sitting on a couch, popping the multi-colored pills that dude who kinda sorta knows your girlfriend just gave you in exchange for that new Jefferson Airplane LP...
...wait, it's 2012, not 1967. Anyways, "Do it Again" is a slow, measured tune drenched in reverb and perfect for nodding out to. "Death Song" somehow manages to mix Nick Cave-esque vocals with instrumentation BrianJonesTownMassacre wouldn't sneeze at (or mebbe they would, but Janitors would withstand that particular exhalation). The bridge is a vicious drums-n-guitar duel that segues into a bright new day, like when ya sober up and start drinking again immediately after recovering from those pills ya just took.
"Coming Down" is a note-perfect morning-after jam. The thudding drums and scratchy, geometric riffing sounds like I usually do after a night spent drinking Olympia beer and arguing with friends about the relative merits of percocets over valiums. That is, vomitrocious and still, somehow, witty enough to catch yr attention, boppers.
In case you haven't noticed, I both like The Janitors and prefer to describe their music in non-musical terms. Deal with it. If you enjoy effects-laden, blues-croon driven, neopsych space oddities, you'll like The Janitors.
Listen here. Buy here.