1967 is a walk down one man’s memory lane. A dark, tumultuous and heavily drug influenced walk. A compilation of recordings unearthed from Anthony Washburn’s twenty three year career at making music, rearranged, crushed and mixed with interludes (referred to as “Incidentals”) from friends to form one long stream of thought that wanders in the background adding intensity and uncertainty to the audience’s lives.
Kicking off with what sounds like a sample of a party with reverb heavy snares and synths audible from afar, it all disappears, and falls under the weight of an overpowering drone which in a way or another remains the only constant throughout the recordings; the one piece of logic that traces the history of the subsequent tracks. It moves in and out of focus to allow other noises and voice samples to shine, but in a way remains there, gluing it all together and proving itself the single most important layer of sound in the tapestry that makes up 1967.
There is always a sense of deep sadness in the tracks, the stories told of night terrors, Morse code clashing against what sounds like a processed wind chime, the drug heavy audio message that seems to go nowhere, all contribute to a sense of loss; a sense of constant motion towards the unknown. Every step taken is a revelation, albeit a bleak one. Every word uttered is a confession, but it might equally be a flat out lie. It puzzles the listener, makes him guess, then play the record again to try to fit all the pieces of the puzzle together, but that never seems to come to fruition. The highlight of the album “Satan’s Slave” is the track with the most solid flow and is also the only track with differing artwork, a man and a woman dancing with the two hideous demons lurking in the background, probably conveying the man’s ill intentions or a reflection of the artist’s idea of humans in general. Here the drone’s state is changed into a constant ebb and flow rather than the ongoing static elsewhere and balances the album, helping the tracks that lie east and west of it gel together as one whole.
For all the bleakness therein, “Green Meadow” suggests the feeling that maybe, just maybe, after all the darkness Washburn has found his way towards something better – indeed, the one approximation of hope comes at the “Final Incidental”, which actually sounds happy! The last track is even funny in a way and leaves the audience with a feeling that Washburn’s going to be alright. Music saved his soul and “2012 won’t be the year [he] dies”. (Mohammed Ashraf)
a closer listen 
As above so below.