"I narrowly avoided an English-second-language tete-a-tete in Belgium once when I refused to believe in the face of all evidence that Sunn O)))'s newly released "Flight of the Behemoth" was not CJA. I was wrong, but whatever. I was already ascending Lucifers path to the stars not garbed in chic grim-robes but a pilling homespun jersey that stunk of wet dog. I confess and repent. for me, all 'this kinda music' was an exercise in deftly crafted slovenliness and anonymous surface texture, but in spending time with a tape simply labeled "Sido Not Dead" I was struck dumb with the burning religious fervor of real people who had truly forgotten to give a fuck and at that very moment unto me was bestowed a mighty vision of two-bar heaters, worn cream carpet, mooching about in slippers with cups of budget herbal tea. A long winter weekend that passed too close to a tape recorder and whose glacial momentum had accidentally combed the little magnetic thingies on the cassette into recognizable geometric shapes. This was my (unwashed) fork in the road: facile, nihilistic, too lazy to make it to the letterbox, yet enlightened, enlivened, ascended, eternal. blangblangblang GRONGGRONG blangblangblang GRONGGRONG. Fellow pilgrims and travellers to furthest inner outposts. herein lies your scripture." (Campbell Kneale/Birchville Cat Motel) edition of 200 copies, in silkscreened cover
in stock | IT| 2018| PLANAM | 19.90

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