Like before I'll let the man speak eloquently for himself:
"Miami Nightlife. Coke thin bodies sweaty with self importance. Sheen of meatgrease. Girls in more makeup than clothes. Still smelling of last night's alcohol. Shots are called as the music pumps out the empty promise of the night. Outside palm trees mock the ragged; on the endless quest for methadrine excitement. The morning comes to reveal receding hairline and acne scars. Lines are cut like morning coffee.
Autoplay.
Scan and repeat."
Autoplay.
Scan and repeat."
separated track by track here too (for the DJs):
ReplyDeletehttp://www.mediafire.com/?dhqxutt4pxhbbch