Declassified wuzzuh weirdness from Kushima-- clanging, incandescent fog and veritable experimental greatness….for this alone I bow on bloody bended knee to Stefan. I don’t know from whose Purple Breath he inhales; perhaps it’s the purple sage on which he strides, but this is great stuff. Born from slanted, glow in the dark axes, surging and balling back and then forth, these sounds are exotic dayglo milk from which alien tits squirt pea green milk us shit-for-brains lovingly recount as our collective weaning while crying pink tears. They drip and he drizzles, spanky. Vocals, guitar, room ambience. Who knows? And isn’t it better that way?
Strange, uncategorizable, cosmic spooge. I love it.
9/10 -- P. Somniferum (12 August, 2009)