- Baynard Woods
If you’re sensing some suspicion on my end about Headband, you’re totally right. It’s a dependable and plain-spoken strain that does what it does, which makes it the NPR of nugs or the Merchant Ivory of pot — an efficient, tasteful experience that offers few surprises but gives you what you want in a trippy enough way that you can nevertheless coast along and trust. That said, weed is also medicine for many, and so calling medicine entry-level or basic seems a bit unfair and drug-snobby because for real, Headband provides exactly what many out there want or maybe even need in their weed. Just, you’d be wise to be somewhat suspicious of something this spot-on; or make sure you don’t stop here with your smoking and get too comfortable.
Compared to some of the chaotic strains that make no sense, and fuse dissonant strains just because it’s possible, and whose highs are jittery, groggy, or both, Headband’s high is intentional, clear, a respite. A hearty body buzz that’s great for when you’re going through some things or want to relax or if you’re trying to be stoned somewhere that’s less than ideal for being stoned, it will help rather than hinder a public high. And because it makes your mind kind of foggy, it forces you to relax and not work or think much. A little bit of Headband will do the job and a lot of it will pleasantly put you down. The high has a wobble to it, and can be a bit of a slow crawl — edible-esque really — so be careful but also embrace how it’ll envelop you.
Still, I was quickly bored by all this damned Headband I had in a baggy just sitting there waiting to be smoked. I declared to my dog that I was “over it” and smoked some. And because I’m a fucking maniac, then I got into a little something else in the old medicine cabinet, which threw a little bit of a chaos into a typical night with some typical weed. The immediate bonus: The bitter butthole taste of the other drug on my tongue was countered by Headband’s lemony hints quite well. As my high kicked in, I experienced Headband anew, basically. My experiment highlighted Headband’s brainy effects, amped up the fingers and toes tingle, and the outside world twinkled a touch more than usual. Car tires rolling on the road outside sounded like spa music synthesizers, the air felt crisper, and the distant bro-y voices of the bar down the street blurred together into a big dumb hum that I could get behind. The shit was like a ’70s Robert Altman movie: messy, warmhearted, so much at once, with an askew kind of beauty to it.
Nose: A single lemon slice that you picked up in the dirty, grimy street
Existential dread: 4
Freaking out when a crazy person approaches you: 3
Drink pairing: Coconut La Croix (tastes like a sweaty arm!)
Music pairing: TONTO’s Expanding Head Band, Zero Time