...she herself seems from another time, with the appearance, hair, dress, and white shoes of a girl like many who, at the Budokan in '66, would hold her head in her hands screaming before Lennon and McCartney.
She barely grazes the strings of her Rickenbacker while a doll-like little voice overlays a few evanescent notes that resonate in the silence of a closed room. You don't need to ask her anything, just let yourself be hypnotized and watch her as she swings a little - and let the minutes pass, even if those notes were Sirens it would be irresistible to drown with them.
"Earth, stream and tree encircled by sea, waves sweep the sand - from my island..." These were the first words I heard murmured by her voice. Unequivocal words: for Rock they mean only one thing. But those ten minutes of enchantment you won't hear on this record, as they were released as a single.
Already several records, for this flower that blossomed among the stones of the acid-folk of the Far East. You can start with this one, you can do it with any other. No beginning, no priority. Whatever your starting point, you will not feel the need to go back. And at that point, you will hardly place her among the ten dolls you no longer like.
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