I can't help wondering just how long it would take for a swarm of remixers to gather to beat their batter if more of this were released. The mad mutations started on Side 1 continue on the backside, as it were, with combinations of voice and music creating suitably crusty parodies of self-improvement and relaxation courses disseminated on audio cassette in the 70's and 80's. I suspect it was made by inducing rapid vibrations of the strings inside the piano and allowing sympathetic strings to resonate, sustain pedal depressed all the while. Cute packaging, a fine release. Outside small voices request some gasoline.
Traffic passes endlessly in the shapeless night, keeping the tarmac warm.
So much cutlery, so little time. The somnambulist continues honing in the sharply reverberant space of active sleep. Soundlessly the sleepwalker's feet fall along the edge of the parapet, like a slug sliding up the thin side of a razor blade. Shrill bats swarm from the crevasse of slumber, bearing secrets, but unable to share them. The slow, relentless approach of the executioner of sleep.