Through a boisterous and over the top presentation, Dr. Timothy Leary became one of the many faces of the counter culture during the ‘60s. He could have been the most respected figure on the scene if he was able to temper some of his rhetoric – I mean he had a doctorate in psychology from UC Berkeley. That’s kinda impressive. But partially due to his surroundings, his general interests and the investigative look into the inner workings of man that Leary undertook, he flew off the deep end. Of course, that’s relative. Leary never willfully hurt anyone or himself. He was not an advocate of violence even amidst an ever growing portion of the protest movement leaning that way. And considering all of this here, there are a number of things that should and do make him an admirable figure.

In 1968 Leary was hauled into jail for possession of two roaches – he maintained that the cops planted them both. But regardless, he was sentenced to ten years in prison. While being processed to figure what works project he was best suited for, though, Leary was prompted to take a battery of tests. The incredible part to all of this was the fact that he developed some of them - "Leary Interpersonal Behavior Test." The culmination of all of this was Leary breaking out of prison, high tailing it to Algiers and hanging out with Eldridge Cleaver (BPP).

During all of this time, Leary, as a part of the drug revolution, began recording spoken word albums. The discs can’t be considered some straight new age droning on, but it gets close. The first proper release – some were cassette only releases – was the famously titled 1968 disc Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out and finds the self proclaimed guru coaxing listeners through a trip.

During that paislied decade, eastern stuffs – religious texts, music, etc – gained a greater cache in the western mind. And as a part of that, The Tibetan Book of the Dead somehow became an adopted text by acid eating, long hairs. The trip of life was juxtaposed with the rise and fall of an acid experience. I would imagine, by now, all involved in such tripe have realized how ridiculous it seemed – it’s a drug, not a way of life. And while no one ever actually turned into a glass of water that was terrified of spilling, if there was every an inkling of doubt in regard to what was to be encountered after beginning that chemical journey, Leary was here to help.

The majority of “The Trip” represented on Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out is just a series of muscular figurings about life and what to think about while under the influence. Bookending it all, though, is a clutch of three songs, not even totaling ten minutes, that come off as some of the best tripped out, eastern shucking folk music from the ‘60s. It’s kinda like if Donovan wasn’t just a fey-Dylan impersonator. What makes any of this tolerable, though, is the fact that Leary was beyond sincere – and this was most certainly not an attempt to cash in on the counter culture.