San Francisco bands pretty much wrote the book on psychedelic music, thanks to its status as the nexus of all things trippy and acid-fried in the late 60s and early 70s. And because humans will always need an excuse to get totally zonked out and have a good time, Wooden Shjips proudly continue to carry the torch for anyone who digs their music hypnotic, sexy, impossibly loud and accompanied by brain-bending visuals.

In anticipation of their first album in two years, West (Thrill Jockey), the band is playing a slew of free shows (thanks to Sailor Jerry Rum) up and down the West Coast, and they're kicking it off with a hometown stop tomorrow night at Bottom of the Hill. To get in (and suck down some free drinks at the same time) , RSVP here.

The American West is a vast place rife with both opportunity and uncertainty that's inspired myths, legends and fantasies throughout the centuries. It's only fitting that Wooden Shjips' music has a sense of endless wanderlust (their songs constantly teeter towards 10 minutes) and the ability to kidnap your brain and take it to places far, far away from the here and now. Their endless-highway beats, distorted, trembling guitars and singer Ripley Johnson's (also of Moon Duo) rich Jim Morrison croons recall Suicide or Hawkwind and create a haunting vision of moving closer towards the edge–of the continent and of reality.

Try out their track "Black Smoke Rise" for a taste of what's to come.