A bit like bathing in cotton candy: sticky, indistinct, lurid, slow going. And probably not as much fun as it sounds, except for the headrush ignited by the emergence from fog to icy clarity. Is it churlish to hope for a choon in the midst of these deliciously gauzy textures?
Reminds us of: Röyksopp | Animal Collective | A gay disco bar as rendered in a teen movie