How's this for crumbling granduer, lo-fi bedroom pop that's big on the melodrama but caked w/ grime from Oakland streets and mud from city outskirt forests, kind of Inca Ore-y type fragility and of course Mt. Eerie/Pumice loner trips, loads of musing in that middle time re: afternoon weirdness/inbetweenness.
[Haunted House MySpace]
[Buy The Invisible War Of The Mind from Bathetic]
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