Along the lines of early D/P/I and Airport, Richard Pizzaro is a master of bath-dub, maximalist collage, bouncing around pings that captivate syntax of agoraphobic anomaly. “Simple” is all at once there and vanishing within itself, absorbing the sonics surrounding flexible wavers, listening to itself listening to itself, listening to the listener listen to itself. It’s “Simple.” Recommended for getting-well, walking in the street, gathering your mental health, and shooting it all into an oblivion:
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