Love cats? Hate Nazis? Well, here we have a pro-feline, anti-fascist mix tape chock full of classics from your favorite artists, celebrating the age-old tradition of recounting the WWII era and the many global complexities left in the aftermath of it all. Originally packaged with homemade vegan cookies that I consumed upon receiving the tape 8 years ago.

A weird, meandering trip to some strange places. You're excited to start out, but things get fouled up fast and by the end of Side A you're terribly confused to have ended up on popular radio circa 2009. Side B lets you know that the problem was that the handful of mushrooms you choked down 40 minutes ago was maybe a little too much, and now you're in a kind-of-pretty-kind-of-frightening woodland trip, like that freaky scene in The Bear and you're the baby bear.

East Coast transplant in the post-Grunge Pacific Northwest. Sipping lattes, smoking the luscious reefer, you’re acclimating to the nu-culture just fine. While working at Kinko’s to subsidize your education, you start to realize that there is a whole world out there waiting for you to discover it. As you cautiously venture outside of your musical comfort zone, the baby steps you take pay off big. In a moment of stoned inspiration you throw it all on a tape and ship the good news to your Comrades back East.

Fever dream vibes. Like being hopelessly entangled in sweaty sheets, sinking into a claustrophobic panic. You're listening to what people are saying but it doesn't make any sense, and it’s all just feels like a bunch of unsettling non-sequiturs.

Hold your cards close to your chest. Reveal just enough to casually flex your taste with a sly wink of the eye to ensure the game is all in good fun. There are no losers, only missed opportunities in the time that passes agonizingly slow. The hardest part is just about over, or so you think. Brace yourself for the descent down one of the many crests you will have to overcome in this life. Remain eternally grateful knowing you won’t go it alone.

The grimy soundtrack to your denimclad gang's adventures through the underbelly of a crumbling rust-belt city. Maybe you recently had to throw your murdered girlfriend's corpse into a trash compactor, maybe your newborn came out of the womb a twisted mass of flesh due to your agent orange exposure in 'nam, you're ready to waste a motherfucker in any case. You've got nowhere to run and nothing to lose.

Can you imagine walking into an isolated convenience store at an obscure hour? The person behind the counter is a secret taste genius and is playing the best music you've never heard (or maybe you feel like you must have heard it, but can't remember what it is). You're trying to play it cool but have literally never had more of a thrill pretending to shop for smoked peanuts or sno-balls or whatever and you're lingering way longer than is normal. You're a creep. Who cares about gender or orientation, you're in love with this person.

You're trying to keep busy around the house, but you're mostly missing someone real bad. There's flashes of anger about the situation, cause it feels fucking unfair, but you just want to be with them, and you're daydreaming about the sound of their voice and the way their eyes look. Probably gotta burn some incense or smoke a jay if you have weed.

This tape is about that feeling of enjoying being sad. Like, maybe you're thinking about the past and romanticizing it, or imagining how other people are probably doing really fun shit and you're by yourself. But you're enjoying the feeling also, so you're not really sad, It's kinda more like wistful and you feel a little superior because enjoying darker moods seems like some shit only smart cool motherfuckers can do.

Sounds like slowly sobering up over the course of a long walk home in the dark. Brain fuzz, emotional ups and downs, and being alone with your thoughts. Big brain mix of genres too, not for casuals.