So hold on to the fractals streaming forth from the Rigel Magellan side. These tunes could be soundtracks to insect worlds. Ritual and fanfare for something taking place unnoticed by human eyes. This will be all you have left when the tape flips and Guu sucks all the atoms from your brain. This world of noise is nothing that should ever be sought after. It will come to you, pulling from the reality you know. Don't let the trickery of the samples fool you. This singularity grows bigger with each person completing their listen to side B.
Out of all of the last five OJC recordings, this is the most alien and mysterious for me. With around forty five minutes from two artists, this split is a murky deep shimmering. Sometimes heard faintly with direct sunlight added, but ready to pull you in at any moment.
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