cassettes raze the contents of this cassette were carved up by the carelessness of an adolescent who didn't value his own voice. you press_play and hear a host of improvised songs reduced to spectral echoes of what they once were. most survive as snippets that are gone before they've even introduced themselves. there's something almost perfect about the the way one amputated idea collapses into another, assembling an accidental collage of every chorus the younger you couldn't kill. you're singing about a photograph you found before you fell through the ice when the capstan consumes the tape. you slap the back of the deck until it spits out what it wanted to spin into some strange supper, warped and unwound but still structurally sound. this is who you are now. 251006 what's it to you? who go blather from