Slow Gold Zebra Records
This is fucking weird, man. I swear that I've never met any of the guys in Snakes. I've never even been to New York. But Fakeyed Heartscrew has somehow managed to perfectly capture one fucked-up night at a friend's cottage by the lake a few thousand summers ago. The beach at 3 a.m. Match-flare bonfires. Constellations seen through a lazy weed-haze. Rolling Stones cassettes played on an old battery-powered ghetto blaster. Mushroom-trip echoes and everything slightly out of sync. This song is nostalgia in vinyl. Dig it.
And on the flipside, a couple of songs from 1-800-BAND. Tropical Meds sounds like a lost Sticky Fingers recording, all brooding Jagger/Wurlitzer, while Good Intentions sounds like Nada Surf doing the Stones. Kinda groovy, especially if you're, you know, high. Puff puff pass.