the cult of free love

I’m suspecting all these have flown the coup in which case we are currently sat here doing gnashing teeth impressions – and it’s not a pretty sight I can tell you. New-ish deep distance happenings afoot, this is one half of a groove sharing 10 inch platter that pairs together the cult of free love and the wrestler the former of whom trip in with the uber woozy head expanding ‘love is all there is’ – a kind of magic mushroom mirage of Tibetan trance toned Beatles-esque mosaics rethreaded through some wig flipping dream machine operated by a gathering of Sonic Boom / Sunray types, freaky, fried and frankly far out.

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