Edibles company Lord Jones hosted an eerie, ethereal sound bath in Hollywood last night to herald their partnership with Icelandic post-rock band Sigur Rós. The luxury edibles brand, whose gumdrops were named Best Low Dose Edible for New Users by High Times, released a limited-edition collection of “Wild Sigurberry” medicated gumdrops inspired by the flavor of foraged Icelandic berries. The gumdrops are infused with “full-spectrum phytocannabinoid-rich CBD extracts from specially sourced organic hemp,” available in 10mg and 20mg doses (with no THC) nationwide. According to the website, the limited-edition collaboration includes a “proprietary terpene blend designed to provide a calming sense of well-being inspired by the music of Sigur Rós.” The collection comes in a beautiful box with a Sigur Rós crest designed by London-based illustrator Andrew Rae. California medial marijuana patients can also buy the gumdrops with 5, 10, or 20 milligrams of THC per piece, or with a 5:1 ratio of CBD.
At the Lord Jones x Sigur Rós sound bath, it seemed all the cool kids and fashionistas were on hand. After medicating with a complimentary Wild Sigurberry 5mg gumdrop (I’m a big fan of low-dose edibles), I was ushered into a dimly lit theater suffused with incense and fog. I found a cozy spot to lounge on a sheepskin run right next to a famous actress and her husband as they cozied up together on a divan. Waiting for the sound bath to begin, I drifted off surrounded by a low thrumming noise under the blue pulse of what looked like a heart suspended from the rafters. Once the room was full and everyone settled, the thrumming began to deepen, and I came back from my reverie as the blue pulsing heart began to spark, revealing a huge installation (designed by Juan Azulay) that looked like it came out of the Upside Down, with spidery tentacles oscillating brilliant lights and color patterns.
As the gumdrop melted my limbs and put a pussycat smile on my lips, I gazed up at the strange thing above me. Waves of unearthly voice and sound deepened and swirled about. A flicker of candlelight appeared in smoky darkness at the edge of the room as three hooded figures in gauzy robes appeared, swinging burning perfumed censers, moving in a slow procession past the outstretched limbs of reclining guests. The whole room was suffused with layers of otherworldly sound, glittering, pulsing light, fog and smoke, and we all shared a dream for some amount of time—I completely lost track, but I think it was about an hour.
The experience was perfectly Sigur Rós—heady, intoxicating, dreamlike, and somewhat impenetrable. A supernatural fantasy, fueled by a delectable gumdrop.
