Stoned haze, LSD binge, or heroin party: One of the above, or perhaps a conglomerate, was used in the songwriting and recording of the Crocodiles’ Summer of Hate. There is simply no other way to explain how the San Diego duo’s music is just so”¦..out there, maaaaannnn. Dreamy soundscapes like ‘Here Comes the Sky’ ”“ a dead give away for how stonerific this album is ”“ and ‘Sleeping with the Lord’ can’t be concocted any other way (read: sober). Reverb-drenched keyboards and synths swirl here and there like an acid flashback while vocalist/programmer Brandon Welchez wafts in the air alongside the pot smoke. Think Jonas Ã…kerlund’s “Spun” but without all the cartoonish paranoia. Beside the Vangelis-esque dreamscapes, Hate also features some rather noisy rockers.“Rockers,” of course, is loosely used here, as the typical rock song’s agenda ”“ guitar, bass, drums ”“ is devolved into simply a sped up version of the slower numbers. But it works, probably because of, um, outside influences. Most notably, for the wrong reason, is the second track, ‘I Wann Kill.’ Many publications have pointed out its similar melody to a certain Jesus and Mary Chain song. So what? If it’s really that big of an issue (it isn’t), then JMC can sue. Til then, ‘Kill’ is just a great, uptempo track featuring the most inspiring performance of Welchez on the whole record. Also of note is ‘ Refuse Angels,’ the fastest song of this collection and the band’s take on Killing Joke if KJ wasn’t always pissed off about being pissed off. It’s obvious that this was thrown in after some sweet rave party in the Valley, and for good reason. No worthwhile drug binge is complete without strobe lighting or a spirited run from the cops.That isn’t to say that the album blows its load early on ‘Kill,’ or any of the quicker songs. No, more than likely the Crocs snort, shoot, etc. at the beginning and then use the rest of the album as a come-down ”“ and so can the listener. Case in point, the album’s final lyric, fittingly found in a song called ‘Young Drugs,’ is “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.” It’s endlessly repeated over an ‘80s 1-2 beat, glossy keyboards and a guitar that can only be described as “wavy as hell.” It’s clear by the end of the song that the line isn’t a statement of fact, but a sobering lament. Then again, maybe it’s just the drugs talking. Pass the joint, I gotta play this again in order to figure it out. 87%Crocodiles on Myspace