In 1967 emerged a great sound from the West Michigan area. The sound was psychedelic, and the name of the band bringing you that sound was the Fredric.
"Phases and Faces" arrived yesterday, tossed over the front door of my building amongst various other parcels scattered down the stairs.
No song could have been more fitting for the afternoon ahead then "Federal Reserve Bank Blues". I wonder if those guys REALLY knew what that was all about.
The country is whithered and tired. It crawls up to that desert oasis of hope and prays that it is NOT merely a mirage, but a sign; a sign that change is in the air, and prosperity may once again touch our parched, blistered lips.
We need not be afraid of what's to come, as long as we remember that we too must have the ability to stand tall, head held high, and push our way through this current hell we all seem to be residing in.
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