You've been watching that same spot on the ceiling for the last two days; it's not that you cannot do, but you just don't need, anything else. Music like this, filled with images and references coming all at you, makes every spot hold the world upon itself; multiplicity of worlds inside of each sound. Now watch that water drop go down, making its path on the glass, feel its doubts and glories; consider all the ways it may go through, all the forces it holds upon itself, the way the world shines on its back, it's your life as a water drop. Then you may wish to become a turtle, or a mouse somewhere, you may even be "Jack". It is all possible when you have so many different sounds inside your head at the same time. Yet not everything is as sunny as the world outside: most images reflected on that spot will be blurry, dirty, like some old road flick played in an empty theater, your only friend outside fighting on the phone. [Never tell a lie / baby never tell a lie / It'll get you all tangled / and you won't even know why]. They're the kind of images you would like to have in your bedroom wall, thousands of movies playing together at the same time, some Tom Waits music in the background, everything tastes like rockabilly whiskey. It's just like getting film grain on music, or vinyl scratch all over your skin. [Let me find out what you hide / way down there deep inside / won't you take me for a while / why won't you let me know you]. - postbop