Recording currently owned by The Bad Brains and wrapped up in an alternate cover mimicking the famous Blue Note Label. Originally released in 1982 on the Roir Cassette label. Blistering boiled alive hardcore seasoned
with righteous positive vibrations. The Bad Brains are the pantheons of this genre. These limited edition releases sell out quicker than a lightning bolt into the Whitehouse with profit margins reaching 7 times the original price.  Get them with Attitude!

An unexpected gift fell from the heavens burning through the stratosphere of hell like a forgotten sputnik to come crashing at our feet and beckoning us to reconsider. Hardly described as cunctation as one can probably more
accurately transport this release as The Tin Man getting some well-deserved lubrication and to carry on as if nothing happened in the space and time continuum. Onwards and upwards marching naysayer brethren death church folly.

Another essential slab of coloured vinyl dripping with the inner grooves of Greg Sage’s magical guitar-move over Jimmy and take that magical flute and shove it where the sun don’t shine, there is a not so new sheriff in town and he has been spinning yarns for decades influencing one dead rock star after another. Apparently highly reclusive and dedicated Sage is a well-respected demi-god and shuns accolades showered on him while continuing to ply his passion. Essential as vaccines.

Bong rattling bass, Flicker, flicker, flicker tune in and drop out. Be Leary of LSD. Probing Grand Mal seizure material for the ages, penetrating mass hysterics followed by undulating waves of subtle calmness surfing on fluffy clouds with the Silver Surfer to be followed by Thor’s hammer crushing your cranium to tiny bone fragments spraying your mindless dribble for eternity. Drop Brown acid blotters and dive into empty forgotten community swimming pools when every new kid on the block list wanted to follow the right of sabbath noir passages. Brown Acid Series Classic Rock from the Late '60s and Early '70s.

Good things come to little children who patiently wait. Children must be seen but not heard. Children must not talk back to figures of authority. Well, fuck you that day has arrived for those patient little children dwelling in the sewers awaiting the soundtrack to fuel their angst-ridden suppression. Arise and be one. Raise your tiny pumped fist in the air and scream like the screamers. Don’t be normal, don’t follow a formula, follow your heart. Follow Follow Follow. . There is plenty of Tomata in these vines to gormandize your paltry palette.