Hash Jar Tempo
Well Oiled

Once again, I am forced to discard any pretense of being a reviewer.

First, because it would be almost pointless given the immense value of this album which should be taken and listened to (and listened and listened etc.) secondly because it is such a mesmeric work that rather than a review, everything should be articulated through a psycho-pneumatic analysis, such as to lay bare one's neuroses und frustrazionen in public, but the internet is not the public, (let whoever is not afflicted say so first because this album is also "eudaemonic" and will thus elevate and raise your so-called happiness).

Technically speaking, the album is a live performance by Roy Montgomery and Bardo Pond from '97 consisting of seven tracks of infinite average length whose characteristic is given by the acoustic space immersed in a phonetic nebula from which crystal-clear sounds, hypnotic drones, minimalist variations emerge, making it seem like a journey in the galaxy immersed in the "blue tumult of the stars" (P., or T., Verlaine).

Given its magnitude, I recommend listening to it at particular times, like 3:48 PM on a Tuesday or 5 PM on a spring Friday, or do as I do since I've been going to bed at 5 AM for 3 years because I'm afraid of the night, I'm afraid of myself in the night, the other time when the sky was turning pale blue I played it at decent decibels, once I read in a women's magazine that suicide is not a loss of faith in the future but an inability to find meaning in one's past, well the window was open and in the hyaline, lustrous air I thought that after all, 27 years of looking at the same huge orange from the same window which in the morning unfolded green perhaps had something still to tell me.