Arbouretum
Song of the Pearl

Distorted, expansive guitars. As if someone started playing grunge in the Seventies.
The time is distorted too, in fact. Expansive indeed.
Eight tracks. Beautiful. Enjoyable. Easy to love.
A voice like Vedder's. Great and hard riffs. Sweet, light melodies.
A bit Madrugada. A bit psychedelic cowboy.
When you lie on the porch with the first warm days. Stoner. But at night. Or when evening comes. Grateful Dead.
Less reflective than Rites of Uncovering. The other album. Which already intrigued us.
More immediate. More impactful.
And in the end, an even more precious gem: "Tomorrow Is A Long Time" by Bob Dylan, drawn out, dragged, never so beautiful.
Those who are called, love to call themselves detractors, will dismiss it as something already heard.
But we are more against them.
If rock is that, it is that. If rock is that, there's a reason.
Don't expect kids with gelled tufts. Don't expect their little sweaters. Their shrill voices.
This is rock. Like the kind made in the past. Spite to you and those who want the new at all costs. Because they don't know how to live the present. Because they hate the past, who knows why.
You put the date. No temporal reference for us at Altroquando.
Make it yours immediately.