It’s an entry point. Using “dated” at the starting gate is why the gate opens in the first place and the jokers can ride towards the mighty circus, over a scrolling hill, beyond Forbidden Zone. The secret knock: the pound and warble of the sad clown mania, followed by a valve grab. Only rule in the land of color: no dipping toes. Every twist must be full frontal and vibrant, haurient and burlesque. Magnification. So, are you sure you want to cross over and join the skinny chorus underwater in panic, jerking pan pots, convulsing, after sinking the lifeboat, nosediving, skidding over puddles of jewel cases and CD-ROM, leaving spectrum strokes of airbrush molluscs, just to have another bad day at the midsection while under the bright crown of meconium shimmer? Cilia later. And “Wait ‘til you meet / All my buddies”
Haord Records:
https://haord.bandcamp.com
-- Rick Weaver
The "Haord's Buncha" compilation tape on the same label is also killer - ed.
