"Take out this tape and press ‘play’ my darlings. Remember when you were a child? Remember that deep immersive play you almost fell into? Be prepared to fall again oh sweetness. Slithering breath becomes iced molasses on “Moon bear water.” A voice-within-a-voice daydream hums with toothy sibilance. Yellow synths crackle like fire, the most ancient of all musics. Rules-based organisations quake at the critique of “All the mess.” Blunt stabs of fizzing electricity reach an ever-sustaining peak like flu comedowns played on Austrian laptops. 

“Hong Kong breakfast” summons a dented gong, felt rather than heard, through my earphones. What’s that? Dry handclaps and pocket rustle merge into insistent buttery beats. Imagine E. E. Cummings floating in an aniseed nightclub; neon-lit bathrooms give even the most virtuous a sickly glow. “What’s scribbled on won’t kill you.” Dub loops circle like a Sopwith Camel. Cloven feet hop on hot glass beneath the greasy hiss of industrial process. A factory comes alive in all its glory, tiny clicking sounds amplified to the roar of a drop forge. Picture an egg made up of the ancient and modern: dripping cave walls and the monochrome scream of a museum-piece modem. That’s “Childish Mirrors.” All bamboo poles clanked together as blustering virtual horns summon a new apricot dawn. The line, “it nags and demands an explanation” unlocks “It fixes does cute” like a rusty padlock; greasy tones summon an overwhelm of voice as gnarled and twisted as geese feet. 

That Katz Mulk band never quite let go of ‘the song’ but certainly pulls it into unexpected and unsettling patterns. And they beckon you to join in, oh loved one. Apart we are but scattered islands. Together, at play, we are a whole new damn culture." - Joe Murray