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...sonic mayhem from the land of the rising sun, boris come to lay down the acid vibe and blast some cheerian blues into the air, molecules rebounding off each other to gather into one giant hash explosion...slow motion riffing expanding ever onward towards infinite history of the moment, reverbarating into the next world, crossing dimensional parallels with the ease of liquid smoke, melting only to be reborn into the echo from which all matter is formed...time begins and ends while the disk is playing,suspending space in the deepest of universal breathe...lysergic intensity from the primordial swamp oozes its way into the mindsoup that washes up against any hipsters inner cranial workings, clearing paths in the emerald forest of thoughts, sending signals to start the kildozer of fire to bombard the synapse with heavy heavy gloop...set the controls on stun and prepare for realignment with the sludgy voodoo of amplifier worship...IT IS TIME to submit...
...cats who dig the boris groove will no doubt be down with the fact they operate in different spheres of the stoner vibe, sometimes practising the art of slow motion riffing, other times letting loose with some punk metal thrash, whilst again dosing up the preceedings with a chemical element like whats going on with this feedbacker wax...liberally squirted with a heavy tab of sandoz the boris-machine heads off for the plateau that was first navigated by frisco stoners, the oxford circle and the dead when they were getting freaky with such madness as 'heavy air'...it don't altogether sound like those combos from back in the day (temporal lines being restricted by gravitational physics) but the freeform landscapes are hew from the same ideas, the same wish to escape the boundary of sound, go beyond the accepted known of this thing called rock ('n'roll)...zoned-out rushes of LSD splutter around in meandering patterns, wigged moments of hallucinatory grandeur, clear crystal reasoning arrives briefly, only to be replaced as expansion continues, ever outward, ever inward, both movements revealing themselves as the same, the middle ground betwixt worlds of wobblyness...
...sonic mayhem from the land of the rising sun, boris come to lay down the acid vibe and blast some cheerian blues into the air, molecules rebounding off each other to gather into one giant hash explosion...slow motion riffing expanding ever onward towards infinite history of the moment, reverbarating into the next world, crossing dimensional parallels with the ease of liquid smoke, melting only to be reborn into the echo from which all matter is formed...time begins and ends while the disk is playing,suspending space in the deepest of universal breathe...lysergic intensity from the primordial swamp oozes its way into the mindsoup that washes up against any hipsters inner cranial workings, clearing paths in the emerald forest of thoughts, sending signals to start the kildozer of fire to bombard the synapse with heavy heavy gloop...set the controls on stun and prepare for realignment with the sludgy voodoo of amplifier worship...IT IS TIME to submit...
...cats who dig the boris groove will no doubt be down with the fact they operate in different spheres of the stoner vibe, sometimes practising the art of slow motion riffing, other times letting loose with some punk metal thrash, whilst again dosing up the preceedings with a chemical element like whats going on with this feedbacker wax...liberally squirted with a heavy tab of sandoz the boris-machine heads off for the plateau that was first navigated by frisco stoners, the oxford circle and the dead when they were getting freaky with such madness as 'heavy air'...it don't altogether sound like those combos from back in the day (temporal lines being restricted by gravitational physics) but the freeform landscapes are hew from the same ideas, the same wish to escape the boundary of sound, go beyond the accepted known of this thing called rock ('n'roll)...zoned-out rushes of LSD splutter around in meandering patterns, wigged moments of hallucinatory grandeur, clear crystal reasoning arrives briefly, only to be replaced as expansion continues, ever outward, ever inward, both movements revealing themselves as the same, the middle ground betwixt worlds of wobblyness...
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