Autumn Comes

The summer supposedly ended last weekend, and who knows, maybe it did? it depends on who you ask. you can see the light changing, and i guess that's as good of a sign as any. in the new issue of arthur magazine in the bull tongue section the grand hotel was written up. it goes as follows:
We reviewed a cassette by The Grand Hotel a long time ago. It was really weird and out of nowhere, and we figured whoever these magicians were, they probably would evaporate sooner rather than later as such monumentalists are wont to do. Seems like they've been kinda alive and well and gigging close by our environs once or twice. Who are they? We kinda pride ourselves on knowing when shit is going down at any given time in any given basement but The Grand Hotel has us kinda sniffing sideways in "huh?" Adding to our delightful bafflement is a goddamned LP in an edition of goddamned 100 copies with goddamned silkscreen covers and purportedly recorded in Lake Tahoe, Palo Alto, Hopewell Junction and New Orleans. Either someone's pulling our dick or we're just too bizzy doin' jus' dat ourselves cuz this "The Sailboat Mix LP" (felt records) is as enchanting and unpretentious and sweet a slab of huzz-grind improv slather yr likely to grib any which way. What the fuck?
By batsinmyhair, shot with Canon PowerShot A540 at 2008-09-03