also, try some classical music. was never a big follower, but sometimes it will take you places youve never thought existed
classical for tripping threads:
http://www.bluelight.ru/vb/archive/i.../t-531107.html
http://www.bluelight.ru/vb/showthread.php?p=9349647
From there:
Try Sibelius Symphony #2.
Even better... his Symphony #7. Fucking WHOA.
Let the trip get close to peaking... be sure there will be no interruptions (turn off the phone ringer, etc)... start Sibelius Symphony #7, turn down the lights... a continuous 20 minute battle of darkness and light...
My fave version: you can get the download of the Karajan Sibelius 7 here, in either MP3 or lossless FLAC (i.e., CD format) here:
http://www.deutschegrammophon.com/ca...UCT_NR=4743532
review:
http://inkpot.com/classical/sibsym7r.html#kardgo
"...This famous reading is cogently argued and above all, spine-tinglingly intense. ... the sense of progression and line is very strong, the sense of living movement taut, the grand energy palpable."
Truly awesome and psychedelic. Dark yet ending in one of the most moving and transcendental blazes of God-Light I have ever hear. Nothing tops this... both dark and light.... I think you will find it utterly perfect. SO organic, really gets under your skin and into your head.
See here for an exquisitely detailed description. It's NOT overblown... this is exactly what it always felt like to me. Make this near the peak of your trip. You will probably end up in tears... you will never be the same... don't listen to it till you are tripping... make tripping the first time you hear this. You will probably need to play it a few times again all the way thru again. Did I say you will NEVER BE THE SAME after hearing this tripping.
I swear I am not joking.
http://inkpot.com/classical/sibsym7.html (rest of this site is great too)
Sibelius' Seventh Symphony: Recordings Survey
http://inkpot.com/classical/sibsym7r.html
ONE MORNING at 2 am, in the quiet of the night, I put on a CD of Sibelius' Seventh Symphony and shut off all the lights in my room. What proceeded is a wholly personal experience which I do not ask you to understand; I only ask that you listen. Deep in the darkness, at the height of Sibelius' last completed symphony, I was delivered into a mountainous haven of musical ecstasy. So utterly absorbed was I that I thought I saw pinpoints of light in my room. Perhaps I was dreaming, half-asleep, maybe even delirious. In any case, I have always imagined these were stars before my eyes, and have called them as such.
WITH a soft stroke of timpani, the Seventh Symphony rises from the darkness. A rising C scale enigmatically ends on A-flat. Mists float by, the woodwind, like some primeval bird, greets the barely-lit dawn. Strings shimmer, nostalgic yet urging gently forward. Light fills the sky, but it is neither night nor day. Surging from the undercurrents, the great trombone theme surfaces and fills the universe with a grand evocation of infinity. An urgent development section follows, full of moving strings, distant winds, cries of life, pulsating rhythms of nature.
The development of the material is tightly concentrated, leading suddenly but inevitably into the second appearance of the trombone theme, dark, solemn with the enduring force of life. Ominous winds swirl, stir and growl in the background. As this passes, the mood flows into a pastorale-like sequence. The alpine trombone theme finally achieves its highest being in its third and final appearance. Where one might think it could not become more awesome, it does - the strings swell, the winds billow with understated power before it then roars into being. Raising a great storm of brass and strings, the symphony seems to struggle in its birth, life and culmination all at once, driving vast galaxies of intense energy.
Suddenly, we seem transported beyond all that has transpired. Ecstatic violins soar higher and ever higher, penetrating the blackness beyond. As if returning to the dawn-touched opening, distant horns reveal a quiet flute solo - is this not the mythic call of the opening, seeming to speak to us from another time, another space?... It is the same voice, the hymn of the trombone in another form, the same musical material that has gone on before, transformed. The breathing, living nature that does not know ending. In all times past and to come, it forms and transforms, never stagnant, always dynamic.
And yet always the same - wherever the Symphony goes, it remembers the essence of its birth. Thus, ultimately we return to the beginning - C major. The Symphony gathers its orchestra for one final paean to universal life itself - every instrument joins in "the grandest celebration of C major there ever was". Except the clarinets, 1st and 3rd trumpets (playing E and G), the entire orchestra, layer by layer, hymns the note C at every octave. Delivered from mortal bonds of earthly understanding, rising above mountains we cannot conquer, gathering with the force of revolving planets, thrust into the chordal Om of the universe, to where the stars dwell.