This the other time that we carry under our heart. The other note that we erased. The other voice we thought was too fragile. The other girl we buried in another female. The panic we buried in tight fists. The hope that we hoped upon. The pain we buried in a dream before we slipped off into sleep. This album is a rare gem, a diamond covered in snow. As personal as you can get when when you make music that is art. The voice (a woman) is filled with tenderness, heartache, anger; it spins, croones, whines, murmers over a perfectly dosed mimimal orchestration of acoustic and electronic sound. One of the albums you will be able to only procure at Ototoi-Music… and you should. No heart ever pulses forever. This is the blues taxidermied with the skin of modern culture.

Autoproduction. 2001