Editor’s Note - Dopesmoker is an album by the stoner metal band Sleep, consisting of one hour-long song. I decided that the best way to write about it would be to press Play, and write continually until the song is over. Giddy-up!
I’ve been meaning to write about the musical phenomenon that is Dopesmoker since it’s reissue early last month, but one can’t just download a one song, hour-long album, press play on iTunes, and start clacking away at the keyboard. No, that is not the proper, respectful way to attack such a historic rock epic. And no, that is not a misprint in the first sentence: one song, one hour long. One hour, three minutes, and thirty-six seconds, to be precise.
A bit of backstory before I continue. Dopesmoker was originally recorded in the mid-nineties by legendary doom metal band Sleep, comprised of three stoner dudes from San Jose. It was to be the band’s first album for a major label, London Records, who signed the band with the intent of making them more “mainstream”. But Sleep were not interested in being the Gen X version of Black Sabbath. The band was hellbent on following their own artistic vision (how refreshing!), and after much time spent laboring in the studio, the band emerged, amidst a thick cloud of weed smoke, with their painstakingly created, hour long magnum opus. “We shall call it, ‘Dopesmoker’,” they proclaimed. Their label execs, as you might imagine, were less than enthused.
The ensuing battle between the band and the label resulted in the recording being chopped up into six separate “tracks” and retitled Jerusalem, which still failed to please London execs. The noble members of Sleep refused any additional concessions, and ultimately broke up rather than see their masterpiece further compromised. Jerusalem was eventually released in 1999 on indie label Music Cartel. The band finally found vindication four years later, when the original hour-long track was released as Dopesmoker on Tee Pee Records in 2003.
Fast forward nine years to 2011, when another indie label, Southern Lord, was contacted by bassist/vocalist Al Cisneros about a deluxe reissue of the recording. The label jumped at the opportunity, and on May 8, 2012, a remastered version of Dopesmoker, featuring new artwork and a bonus live track was released, delighting old-school stoner metal bros and introducing the band to a new generation of shaggy-haired headbangers.
And then there’s me. I can’t claim to have ever been a connossieur of stoner metal or any other type of metal, be it heavy, doom, black, thrash, or sludge. But I do love music, and I especially love any band that is passionately and stubbornly committed to its own specific artistic vision. So when I first read about Dopesmoker, about the story behind it’s creation and eventual “persecution”, that it was an hour-long odyssey of mammoth metal riffage, I was certainly intrigued. I also learned that the minimal lyrics in the composition recount the tale of the “Weedian People” and their holy pilgrimage to the “riff-filled land”, whatever and wherever that may be (Israel does pop up in the lyrics so that might be a clue). Once I saw that badass cover art, I knew that I had stumbled across perhaps the most metal album of all time. Yes iTunes, I’m sure I want to buy and download “Dopesmoker”. Time to rock the eff out!
I have now listened to the album all the way through at least a half dozen times. Not only does it cause one to break into prolonged fits of windmilling air guitar, but it also functions quite well as background music while working on the computer (air guitar fits notwithstanding). I’m still a bit surprised that I like Dopesmoker so much, considering my complete lack of indulgence in that magical weed that inspired the album.
At no point in my life have I ever considered myself to be a pothead. In college, I lived with potheads. True reefer junkies, those guys. Wake ‘n Bake, gotta-get-stoned-just-to-go-to-class, check-out-my-collection-of-hand-blown-glass-bowls, ganja addicts. Highly functional addicts for the most part, but addicts nonetheless.
Even then, when my weed intake was at its max (perhaps a couple times per week), I still did not like the way it made me feel. The high would start out OK, mellow, relaxed, serene. But after fifteen to twenty minutes, my mind would kick into hyper-analysis mode, and whatever movie, tv show, or music was playing (there’s always something playing; stoners need something to get high to!), my brain would attempt a complete deconstruction. The problem was always that my thoughts would flicker across my consciousness, too fast for my brain to keep up. I’d always be struggling to grasp that last thought, or the one that occurred before it, or Damn!, what was I just thinking about four thoughts ago? Wow, Daniel Day-Lewis is such a committed actor, isn’t he? I can’t believe I’m breathing air right now. Wait, what was that thought I had five or six thoughts ago? And so it would go until I would usually end up excusing myself in a stupor, and go lock myself in my bedroom and stare at the wall for an hour or two.
It’s been a long time since I last smoked pot, so long that I can’t even remember the last time. I suspect it may be that Fourth of July six or seven years ago, spent with friends at a cabin in Green Lake, Wisconsin, where I got a scorching case of Athlete’s Foot and our gracious host got so drunk one night he confused the stairway landing with the upstairs bathroom and urinated down into the living room. Good times.
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| Men of Conviction (and coherence?) - Sleep in their heyday. |
Once again I have overindulged in myself, but there is a point to my ramblings. Though I’m not a pothead, I have found that as I have gotten older, I have gravitated more and more toward psychedelic music, music that is often associated with potheads. I’m not exactly sure why this is. I suspect that it may have to do with the complex and experimental nature of a lot of these types of music. Dopesmoker is certainly an experiment in many ways. Repetition, concentration, stamina, all to the point of transcendence. Seriously, listen to this a few times, really listen to it, and there is an element of catharsis that becomes evident in all of the plodding drums and endless, chugging riffs.
I am so, so, sooo curious to know how the listening experience is altered or enhanced by simultaneously burnin’ a doob or hittin’ the bong. Alas, I am so old and lame that I wouldn’t have the slightest idea where to seek out some dope to smoke. Anyone know any Weedians?
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