Night People's autumn run, this live recording from Superstar radiates most warmly. I've played it more often even than the Happy Jawbone Family Band, though that's a different mood entirely. Superstar is two people from Melbourne. There's some pretty singing and a bit of a beat, but mostly it's guitar, all ripply and expansive, like when they go into a dream sequence in old sitcoms, but slow-mo. It's peels of soft-echo guitar like veils cast from the top of a tall building. There's some synth in there. This music is not far from the dreams I had when I took mushrooms before my afternoon naps in the 80s. I listen often in my office, when I'm trying to write, or when I'm pretending I'm not at work. A couple of weekends ago my wife and I listened as we crossed a military zone to Pasaquan. It was warm for November and the windows were down. My wife stuck her arm out the window and let her hand surf on the whipped-up wind, slow waves up and down, and she said, This is nice. She took a deep breath and sighed and let her head fall against the seat back. It feels so good to get away and de-stress, she said. It does indeed.
There's still time to buy four cassettes and get six.