Pervers as I am I always pretend to love a bad drive that missed everything the world hates. Say for example I like to pretend to love this album by Squarepusher, Jaco Pastorius diminished his taste, his bleached weaklings lift, the smell of conceptual Rode muzak ... Anyway the thing quite sensibly zero for a future ex electronica nerd always a little running around the bush. Question remains why did not masochistic tendency (I'm pretty smoothly sadistic) I pretend to like it? (This dummy narrow, this false West Coast plastic, these vocoder opportunities redeemed nowhere ...) The question is why this little white disk recorder without a mustache who wants more jazz-rock that is, would be found in bleugh ? It's a mystery! Maybe he is not that terrible after all? Go figure, eh!
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