Sales Information:

When listening to this record, some may say it sounds like, "a bunch of crying disco loops melting under the sun"

Others could call this "some form of ultra demented pop music created to destroy pop music whilst trying to co-exist in a paralell dimension simultanously getting caught in some sort of purgatory to suffer together infinitely.

Another rather accurate description could be that the record is akin to "eating an ice cream cone off city blacktop in August"

At points some of the tracks are driven by a possessed rhythm box going in and out of sync
as a tape player with a broken pitch chews and warbles eveything in its path.

Other times the music is like a slow dry mouthed mule caravan trudging through the desert looking for a oasis while hallucintating on dmt.

And some may even be turned on when things take an unexpected turn for the worse as out of tune melodies, and skewed abrupt breaks in the music grind and scratch the listeners face with its jagged nails.

To say this isn't a masterpiece would be a gross understatement.