Airiel

Anyone remember trembling blue stars, oh come on of course you do, ‘Abba on the jukebox’ one of the finest things committed to wax, I only mention this because, barely five seconds into this and we were surrendering to the charms of the demurring bliss burned cascades spiralling forth from this dream draped lulling lovely. This be Airiel with ‘your lips, my mouth’ – a track culled from, what we assume to be, a current full length by the name ‘molten young lovers’ heading out through shelflife. Indeed, trembling blue stars, why what how you are wondering, why mention them as a reference marker, well simply because this bruised beauty is soured with the same finitely forlorn ache right from the weeping stratospherics to the heart heavy haunt, quite immaculate I’d like to think.

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