You have this glass house, out near the country, amongst other vegetable patches, surrounded by grey skies, leaves looking through the ceiling bright brown against the mildew and you make this music there, it turns out golden and opens that cold room into this spacious plateau, floating into the four track, then you give it this wacked name that smacks of that stoned summer and it's total tie dye in black and white.
[Buy Postal Licks from Sloow Tapes]
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