mice_parade raze someone left this on a loop one night before leaving the station, and for the next six or seven hours it was all i heard. no commercial breaks. no warm, sardonic voice to tell me anything i didn't already know. just nine tracks of overdriven drums, vintage electric piano, violently strummed classical guitar, vibraphone, and three different voices circling one another. a man with an anagram for a name warned me to watch out for a laughter break or a wild setting sun. he asked, "if the myths have gone away, will the stories ever stay in our time?" i didn't have an answer then. i don't think i have one now. but i'm living proof that mixed reviews don't mean a thing. because seventeen spins around the sun after i first tried to commit this album to memory in case i never managed to hear it again or find out who made it, i haven't learned to love it any less. 240508 what's it to you? who go blather from