trippy dippy hippie.......cowboy psychedelia

Lee:
Some velvet morning when I'm straight
I'm gonna open up your gate
And maybe tell you 'bout Phaedra
and how she gave me life
and how she made it in
Some velvet morning when I'm straight

Nancy:
Flowers growing on the hill
Dragonflies and daffodils
Learn from us very much
Look at us but do not touch
Phaedra is my name



Even after thousands of listens, I still don't know quite what
to make of this bizarre, creepy song. A country-outlaw singer
drowning in a pool of reverb, constantly interrupted by
dazed-hippie interludes, and haunted by a storm cloud
orchestra. Sure, Phaedra is part of a Greek myth and all, but I
prefer to think of "Some Velvet Morning" as a LoveSong to drug
rehab, Hazlewood longing for a time when he'll be sober enough
to reminisce about his addiction (ephedra = amphetamine, natch)
and Sinatra in the role of the drug-personified siren calling
him back to her clutches. --Rob Mitchum (Pitchfork)

and for a fab little interview with the rather withdrawn

lee hazlewood




the great man, whose boots are done with walkin', wants to have on his epitaph:
``didn't he ramble''

i might take his good example, and have mine as: ``didn's she like to bang on''