Yeti went down in the psychedelic annals as a movement defining juggernaut. The four sides that constituted the behemoth opened the gates of kosmische hell—the stamp of approval that acid-drenched weirdness could live on well past the 1960s, even if the adherents to such gospel were relegated to pop-music obscurity. On Tanz Der Lemminge, we’re greeted by the familiar echoes of psychedelia, but not as we’ve known it . . .
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