Psych Music / Meatwave

Jared's flyer for the Rock & Roll Dance Night

Jared's flyer for the Rock & Roll Dance Night

January 25, 2018, Day 7 of 30 Day Music Challenge

Jared put on some classic psych music tonight – The 13th Floor Elevators. We sung along to “You’re Gonna Miss Me”.

Psych music reminds me of Jared when we first met.

New Brunswick, New Jersey, Autumn 2000. My roommates at the time were three guys. They were three really cool guys (and I mean it, despite what follows) – one was an alcoholic who was an excellent cook, another was a moderate drinker and a great keyboardist and lyricist, and another was a completely sober graphic designer. We went regularly to McCormick’s, which we called McDrunk’s.

I told them one night that I was headed out to meet Jared at McDrunk’s. My roommates never showed up, and Jared and I talked uninterrupted into the night. It was an undeclared date with the ruse of talking about political organizing that was happening in town. I don’t think we talked about politics at all.

A few days later, Jared was hosting a Rock & Rock Dance Night at his house. A couple bands were playing, including Python Angelo (sic), a psych band that included a few guys who had been my neighbors when I lived across town. The other band was Jared’s, The Bad Form, a messy and noisy rock band. After the bands, Mike, the bassist (guitarist?), from Python would spin from his collection of classic psych records.

As we made dinner tonight, I asked Jared, “Did I go to that show at your house alone?”

“No! You showed up with Meatwave!” he said.

“I did?”

“Yes! That’s why I didn’t talk to you until you grabbed me and started dancing! I thought you brought a date.”

Oh, it was a sh*tty neighborhood. I needed a crew. I didn’t leave the party with Meatwave though.



Meatwave had been a neighbor, a low key, sweet fellow, more so a friend of a friend than my friend. He had a charming and goofy way. He earned his nickname, Meatwave, after telling our friends, Shawn and a couple others, about a girl he was hooking up with. He said, “You know, sometimes you have to ride the meatwave,” while making a wave gesture with his hand.

Later, Shawn reenacted the story, including the gesture. “He shall forever be called Meatwave,” Shawn declared. And, he was.

I can’t recall Meatwave’s given name. I could not bring myself to call him Meatwave, so I did not refer to him by name after his renaming.


Monica S. of Cranford, NJ writes an ode to McCormick’s on Yelp. Nostalgic and true. Read it.