Huge Tip! Limited Edition Green Petrol Grey Marble Color Vinyl LP. Full-color cover artwork printed on Italian fine art 250g linen textured paper; hand-pasted on pro-printed reverse cardboard jackets. Includes two inserts. Cover artwork by Roberto Opalio (35mm slide film, Indian ink drawing). This vinyl-only follow up to the eponymous 2018 CD-only album is in memory of Auko Dijkstra, one of My Cat Is An Alien's first fans, who founded Aukam Records in 2023 appositely to release this LP in collaboration with the Opalio brothers’ own imprint. Sadly, Auko Dijkstra tragically passed away last year, just few months after the beginning of the vinyl production, and didn't make it to hold in his hands this vinyl he long dreamed of.
The Sky With Broken Arms - Vol. II is a characteristically excellent psychotropic deep-space mindfuck and its two longform pieces are instant MCIAA classics (and if there was ever a MCIAA album that could draw in the more adventurous fans of space rock/psych bands like Flying Saucer Attack, this is probably it).
Back in 2018, the Opalio brothers released The Sky With Broken Arms, an album which was partially inspired by the surface noise on a bunch of Roberto's vinyls that had been mysteriously ravaged by oxidation. On its newly released sequel, the sounds of crackling vinyl dutifully make their return, but that feature is now a bit eclipsed by a different and new twist, as Maurizio plays recognizable electric guitar and dabbles in more earthly melodies and scales than he usually does. 
The opening "Empty Spaces Of Swirling Awareness" is the first of the album's two excellent extended plunges into outsider psychedelia heaven, which results in a shapeshifting mindbomb that alternately resembles a squall of honking and seasick seagulls, a psychotic breakdown in a toy store at Christmastime, and a candy colored descent into a viscous altered state populated by flickering and sputtering phantoms. In short, it is prime MCIAA territory.

The album's second half is consumed almost entirely by the album's other queasily psychotropic tour de force: "New Horizons Out Of Collapsed Void." It deceptively opens in somewhat familiar territory with the requisite vinyl crackle and eerily quivering alientronics, but soon transforms into something quite revelatory, as Maurizio begins casually plucking out circular arpeggios on his guitar while the hallucinatory haze steadily intensifies. At its peak, the piece evokes the tableau of a solitary man quietly playing guitar in front of a campfire beneath a vast, open sky that has blossomed into a spectacularly vivid aurora borealis that also seems to be alive and sentient. Truly, no one does "cosmic immensity" better than My Cat Is An Alien. 
The closing "Postlude: Synchronization Of Light": three absolutely gorgeous minutes as delicately tumbling melodies twinkle and ripple in a lysergic soup of smearing electronics, whooshes, crackles, and submerged rumble. As far as closing statements go, it is a hard one to top, as it feels like the alien equivalent of riding off into the sunset, which lies somewhere between "slowly sinking into a gently rippling sea of bliss" and "dissolving into pure light." 
I am tempted to demand that someone commission the Opalios to do a live soundtrack to Andrei Tarkovsky's Solaris immediately, but it would probably be closer to the mark to say that if a psychedelic and sentient dream-harvesting ocean made an album, it would probably sound a lot like this. In short, this is yet another endlessly fascinating and unique My Cat Is An Alien album (and an unusually accessible one at that).