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Rating: The chant of a shaman soars on the vibrations of a primitive Raga like petals left free on the waves of a warm summer wind.
A garden scented with spices, sun, Sensual caresses dance freely in a hypnotic chant.
We are in 1966. The Third Ear Band, stained with saffron, sweaty, unconsciously psychedelic.
A little orphan of its times. With the scent of yellowed pages, like when you open an old photo album.
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