Patches of insight drawn from the prison of luv, embroidered by yo la tengo

In the interest of your and my search, allow me to donate, nay devote these certain sounds to the highway billboards of your consciousness- this exposure to your target market, opened and arrayed as an invitation to circle around, leaning against a continuous force, isolates the smokey flickr and stretched out combustion- stretching solid into dust and air- a moment of departing light- cars passing the window, the specimen shifts itself to nothing- a hard and dark salutation to departed light. And as it burns itself, the rhythm spectrum chews into the heartmeat of old and new time- it provides a distance and a space within which the patience fluctuates as a bending buzzcut sucking stone arch- thick and deep, wired into the earth, churning and breaking broken up on and of itself- accepting of the planes of passing sound within which can never find firm footing, tumbling with the cracked bones of the concretion...
-folding us all out into 2 dimensions of intentional space (once and for all within a series of moments)

just listen to the goddamn songs...