Activated. Midi horns and sine pads melt from drumz and again to jousting snarls of apathy. Lyrical, seasoned.

Columnic, wealthy in spirit. Cranial jam.

propulsive, no prisoners

Yet another transcendent versh, guitarists stay on, chimes of peace into the conches of deliverance, rippling. Wackazoid gothic space, metal adjacent

music never stoppd tease into this crackling rarity! Back porch scheming for lived-in tracks, avenues of decay for the tires of hummers.

love it, great call! Summer 85 baby!!

this one’s a rembrandt… screaming tiger work

fuk yea

fantastic version… explosive Phil, jam latent with paranoia and serpentine movement, brent smackin the keys!

A resplendent, muralistic masterpiece. the garbled, submerged revery of a particularly listless mood of Hunter’s lyric flickers in flashes from Jerry’s prior and future selves resounding through the stadium. autobahn jam that brings the modal funk to an altogether different, more minimalist and tranquil place than the modal angst and sometimes discordant, jaggedly dense rhythmic palettes from devils and others. Think 80s. No, this is meant to be as one with itself. A sky passes through its daily course with seasons worth of stars forming trines, transits returns and yods, never contradicting itself, unfoloding with the gasping obviousness of a baby’s breath and total acceptance and love. Darkness be banished.The fire here is a Tolstoy unto itself, just crazy good. big man twirls the constellations and bends the forest with that handsome breakneck grace. And lol dont worry theres enough midi to soundtrack an irreverent japanese action rpg. Seattle love