Remember when we all wore disguises? and made sourdough starters, send letters, did needlepoint, crafted casseroles, laid out charcuterie plates, perfected soufflés, crashed pots and pans, figured out how to cash cheques, and maybe purchased black suits?
Spontaneous post-rock poetic spoken word free space in kura – imagine if Velvet Underground were in Jr High and Leonard Cohen was their neighbour and came by to hang out… ha, not really but maybe add Pavement with John K Samson
File under: Foreign Letters Only
