Long ago this album struck me as an opaque delusion of beauty and bliss. Aht uf mi hed. This guy came out with three albums in a span of four years, this being his third, and last. He went on to produce and make soundtracks, but nothing ever defeated this masterpiece. Soulful funk, funky soul.
Before American Water. Before David Berman retired. Before they ever played a show Before New Orleans. Before Stephen Malkmus became a douchebag. A silver jew became known as a Starlite Walker.
Supersonic departures not to point of homing. I wanna pigeon to return a woman of you. Intense wind traffic diagonal shed industrial mirrored cruising college radio grand. Definite pleasures to the inner ear of the outer core nervous system.
In between the high mountains lies the bliss of grass and the flat blanket of canyon. Fractalizations amongst dreams and meditations. You'll see it when you believe it type stuff.