About the song
“Eight Miles High” is a pioneering track by the American rock band The Byrds, released in 1966. Written by band members Gene Clark, Jim McGuinn, and David Crosby, the song is often celebrated as a cornerstone of psychedelic rock. It drew significant inspiration from the innovative musical styles of sitar player Ravi Shankar and jazz saxophonist John Coltrane, merging these influences to create a unique sound that helped define the genres of psychedelia and raga rock.
The song is notable for its groundbreaking approach, which blended Indian instrumentation and jazz-like improvisation into rock music. Despite its creative achievements, “Eight Miles High” faced controversy shortly after its release. It was banned from U.S. radio stations due to concerns over perceived drug references in its lyrics. Although The Byrds denied these allegations, Gene Clark and David Crosby later admitted that the song was influenced by their experiences with drugs. The ban likely impacted the song’s commercial success, contributing to its failure to reach the Billboard Top 10.
Nevertheless, “Eight Miles High” still managed to climb to number 14 on the Billboard Hot 100 and number 24 on the UK Singles Chart. It was featured on The Byrds’ third album, Fifth Dimension, which was also released in 1966. This song marked the band’s third and final Top 20 hit in the U.S. and signified a turning point for the group. It was released shortly before Gene Clark left the band, making it the last hit to feature his contributions as the principal songwriter.
“Eight Miles High” remains a significant and influential piece in rock history, recognized for its role in expanding the boundaries of popular music and its lasting impact on the psychedelic rock genre.
Video
Lyrics
Eight miles high, and when you touch down
You’ll find that it’s stranger than known
Signs in the street, that say where you’re going
Are somewhere just being their own
Nowhere is there warmth to be found
Among those afraid of losing their ground
Rain gray town, known for its sound
In places, small faces unbound
Round the squares, huddled in storms
Some laughing, some just shapeless forms
Sidewalk scenes, and black limousines
Some living, some standing alone