Minnesota had never heard such a thing. It came from another world. It expanded your mind in a way the accordion never could. It provided instant hipness. You could almost smell the incense. In fact, upon hearing it, the entire room started to shimmer, your hair grew faster, colors were brighter, and, without meaning to, you began to question your place in the universe.
Gat Kirawani Ravi Shankar
Guys like George Harrison were serious musicians and, in the real world beyond America, Ravi Shankar was an acknowledged master. On Sgt. Pepper’s, when Within You, Without You came out of speakers, it was like stepping into OZ. And when The Sound of the Sitar, by Ravi Shankar, came in the mail from the Columbia Record Club, I sank like a stone into a world I knew nothing about.
Love Scene George Harrison Wonderwall
Its music was like meditation — something I was never sure I was doing correctly and which seemed to last longer than it should have. A lot of groups in the late sixties added it to their songs to give them a certain psychedelic je ne sais quoi. For guys like B. J. Thomas, the sound of the sitar was like the fringe on his coat, goony and unnecessary, but for others, like the Incredible String Band, it really did add to the sound, the meaning, the emotion of a piece.
Hooked on a Feeling B. J. Thomas
The Mad Hatter’s Song The Incredible String Band
In the end, it didn’t matter. I loved the sound and I felt that just by hearing these tones, these notes, these rhythms, I was moving closer to the center of the cosmos. This is what I felt all music was doing to me. I still do.
Within You, Without You The Beatles