When I first moved to the mountains of North Carolina, I lived in Chimney Rock. It was a rough time for me, cause you see...i had been smoking a pack and a half of Tahoe 100 reds a day, and I wasn't used to the curvy mountain roads. The beach I was accustomed to was long and straight. There were no sharp curves, so moving out here was a bit of a motion sickness nightmare for ole Tonester. And on top of that, the move to a higher elevation was giving me inner ear infections for about the first 8 months of living here. Or that's at least what the doctor told me.
So here I was, driving to Hendersonville on Dramamine so I wouldn't throw up on my lap on the way to work at Camelot Music. There were times that I'd be so drowsy from the Dramamine that I would still have to pull over and throw up. I'd get to work and they'd send me straight back home cause I was pale from the drive. Double fail.
Something about this record reminds me of those times. I mean try putting yourself in my shoes. Driving a half an hour, not trying to puke but trying to listen to this swirling, droned out, amazing record that you should really just be lying on the ground and listening to. It spins circles in my mind to this day, and now I just wonder why I even tried making the trek and trying to jam this record. But I ain’t mad.
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Tony Plichta is a microwaveable nutrition enthusiast, has a masters in bullshit, his relationship with his moms aint so great these days, he exhales into his bass drum, and thinks that these banana nut bread scented candles are off the chain!