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Tracks like this one are best delivered wrapped up tightly and inside a plain manila envelope. The meet is at an old underground garage somewhere on the East side of downtown. It’s 3:15 in the AM. A car flashes it’s high beams at you and you advance slowly, suddenly aware of the smallest sounds around you, your senses heightened by the threat of imminent danger. Despite your many fears, a racing heartbeat and the sweat trickling all over you, the exchange goes smoothly. You return to your custom Delorean ride, reach into the envelope and insert the cartridge into your futuristic 8 track player.
You press play.
(Ps. debut album for Winson Clink coming soon.)