Manifesto

 

We want music.

 

We want the shit that slaps, that smacks, the fucking bops, jams, and bangers, records with no skips, all killer/no filler, aural experiences that leave us breathless, buoyant, and better than we were.

 

We want albums for setting the mood, the scene, the vibe, for mixing cocktails and rolling blunts, dancing in the kitchen and grooving on the couch, for late night conversations about truth and the cosmos, the lives we lead, the times we’ve had, and all the other shit that comes out when the music’s right, and for those moments when all you want to do is lean back in your chair, read through the liner notes or gaze into the fire, and get sucked into the speakers. 

 

We want music for living, cooking and cleaning, writing and tinkering, for making friends and making love, killing time and tripping balls, albums that make the world more interesting, more beautiful, more meaningful. Forgotten melodies that make us cry. Distant echoes from the world outside. Psych freakouts for expanding consciousness. Horror scores for conjuring the darkness. Underground jazz that reinvents rhythm and experimental what-the-fucks that redefine sound.

 

Life is short. We don’t want shuffle or good enough. We want the best.