The CRs tread the implied trail somewhere between music heard far off and a music finally pulled together. Its finished structure is a plastic imprint of the aesthetic side of hearing. Its language is direct, simple and hopefully unencumbered by convention. Of this clutch of tracks their creators may, with some authority, claim they are only prayers offered up unto: country, wastes of sea, songs, drawings, particular times of day, different furs.
The listeners have returned and are relating those wonders they have beheld....and in the process, hopefully forgotten themselves.

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