Simon Martinez:

My favorite moments on the album are reminiscent of the movie ‘death machine’. Particularly the scene where Richard Brake is trying to evade the death machine and unfortunately cannot escape.

Zane Shields:

"helicopter blades, usurpers
what about the sound of the wind
Stand the rain, dirty feet, no thing ails.”

fresh off a trance-ending, pirating, treasure trove expedition on the island of Kauai, me and Sime hit the studio in LA for a few daze. A haze of days. Navigating an exit from a romantic/quantum entanglement.

Remembering my powers, with a mobile studio rig, we walked around and collected the sounds of lyf and the meta world while hooting and hollering about, seeing the juxtaposition that these two seemingly separate worlds (meat/meta) were becoming one program. “Reality.” Headed to the Stu in the town of cardboard boxes as shelter, laughter took over and has always been the medicine, discovery of new timbres of sound the result, here we are again. 199 Dalmatians.

'My Home is Made of Tin' poses the question “what is this realm?”, built deep within it, the essence of my continued stay here. Sounds encroaching that choice point of not accepting what has been spoon fed to you, and relinquishing that understanding to allow a new subtle experience to navigate these high seas of integrated psychosis.
The title track is asking you what home really is, another reification of the question “who am I?”.... The kuul daddy of course. Damn that beat goes hard, how many horses do you have at home??????
Experiencing the experiment. Thrown through time and causality, believing karma is real, there’s nothing to any of it. After you analyze your aura, you’ll see what you have to work with. Following you like a cumbia times 1000 gang relation. they’re taking us straight off the cliff, so remember how to fly. Baptized by the sea, leave religiousness, stay still with yourself and the angels will sing. IM A shoe if the shoe fits cinder-el, that’s all there is to it. Vast ease.

This might sound like Lazarus walked out the crypt, or Pythagoras sleeping next to the Nile after 40 days of fasting in a black sheep’s skin, because it is. Esoteric only from now on, the sounds are primordial and come from no where tangible or seen. Who knew this whole time the tin hats were telling the truth. Pulgas will forever be my Aumākua… drink the hemlock. Thank you.

Special thanks to Lindsay for being so solid. Simon Martinez the king, absolutely a legend to be recorded in the archives, frankincense and myrrh, my brother.
Also thank you to Ms. Sunraven for the lessons and subtle guidance, you shattered me and I am great fool for it all.

Please use your ears, in joy.