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Murky sermons for the nightriders from pai-lin on the penultimate slot. The grittiest throughline of bone-stripped techno and warp-gear-minimal. Analogue skudge as a guiding idea. Stepped. Pacey. Rolling. Forest Drive West, Cim Pian, Sotofett, Villalobos on Shackleton. I saw the towers fall. So we dance in the ashes. Tip.
