And so its back with Fruits de Mer (this one arriving just as we were drawing this missive to a close) with their now legendary seasonal subscriber give away. Who could forget previous festive gifts such as the ultra rare ’we come bearing gifts’ cassette from 2009 – a copy of which – rumour has it – recently exchanged hands for over 200 of your Queen’s notes. The following year the letter box rattled and the welcome matter purred to the gentle thud of ’the ’a phase we’ve been through’ CD while last years treat was the ambitious and hugely enjoyable double CD set ’the crabs sell out’ / ‘the crabs freak out’ – a mammoth 32 track account of strange sounds bubbling just beneath the radar. And so to 2013, with the label hosting its first all dayer one hazy Saturday in August what better way to document the event than to carve out an wax artefact of the happening for posterity. A specially pressed 7 inch in a mock up ’live at Leeds’ style sleeve that’s certain to be a thing of envy among your friends and peers. Our copy alas is your even rarer promo sadly without funky sleeve – darn – but still pressed upon its digitised settings four cuts recorded at that special Borderline event. Jack Ellister opens the occasion with his home grown ’old south’, a gorgeously intimate slice of rustically hued longing tweaked in introspection and perched upon a lilting hope hunting bitter sweet refrain yearn fully hollowing to an out to sea recline, which as it happens has something of a Beau meets Louden Wainwright III thing about its wares. Stay serve up ’I don’t see myself’ and a mod topped freak beat beauty it is all blessed with a kooky Hammond drenched and lysergic riffola freeform middle bit that’s primed with enough wasted wooziness as to have beards growing spontaneously. Sendelica take up the pilot duties to drive deep into the mystic transcendental folds of the mind with their re-enactment of Floyd’s ’set the controls for the heart of the Buddha (sun)’, just out there is this, jazz snake charms and bonged out arabesque wooziness equip this smoked out dude with a tripping third eye travel bag. Last and by no means least the Luck of Eden Hall arrive to bring matters to a close though not before scalping your stereophonic serenity with a rampant and wildly out of focus and day-glo grooved hexed hep cat re-reading of the Floydian ones ‘Lucifer Sam’. well cool.