A poem by Steve was printed on the inner sleeve and has been sent in by Paul Stockman.
Remindlessness is a pure opportunity untranslated by the filters of memory expressed as a blank rather than a zero...it prevents us from remembering, back from the dead or newly born....it is not amnesia or forgetfulness...it enables us to experience half-memory, super deja vu, the baby's faint recall like ripples in a pond which grow larger but less perceptible...is Isadora Telambi's saxophone miles away in reverb, just audible...is more like mist than glass, more like haze than fire, more like vapour than smoke, more like woman than man...avoids precision, is vague, hard to approach but easy to feel, is your former name on the tip of your tongue...is that which haunts, fades and obsesses...is very sweet and very bitter, it cannot be tasted at first...does not appear, it reveals...is present in darkness, in cats...is the total absence of sense, it is the mere template of the future that you already understand...both enhances and is enhanced by desire...is hypnotic in its pull, it is unusual in its omnipresence, it is an aphrodisiac for souls, it is the antidote for ordinariness... is the groove, the feel, the genuine, the strange, the mercurial, the unexplained...cannot be measured... it may be treasured (however its shadow can be measured and is sometimes referred to as a ghost)...is the daydream suddenly gone, but lingering like a distant voice on the wind...is the song not the singer... it will not add up or divide but it will be readily multiplied...is the way you imagined things would be but somehow aren't...is the rainbow from the storm of impressions... holds your hand in the face of death or great danger, the buffer to the cold sea of certainty... is the reason... in the music and in the silence after the music is gone...--S.K.
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