Mind bent on permanent static. Flirting with the murky top, but drifting further and further away. Going out deep. No paralysis. Cloaked frames of chance, shining through darkness. Space and Time: earthly words for immaterial vastness. Other human, bawdy boasts of absolutes will be crushed under the thumb of Street Thunder’s sound. Pure sound. Taking you away. Beauty pokes it’s head out, as does ugliness. Overwhelmed by continuation. Growing older as you float. Clipped of youth at every second. Unconcerned.
Cassettes of Galaxies are still available. Reckno is to blame, and I’m pointing my happy little finger at them right now.
• Reckno: http://reckno.bandcamp.com
More about: Street Thunder
