Drained but poignant Desertshore visions...earthy, unruly, atavistic folk energies married to beautifully latticed, extraterrestrial electronics...a Mars-probe manned by Pärson Sound / Träd, Gräs Och Stenar hairies, with a cross-legged, strung-out Klaus Schulze running mission control. Sky-sawing harmonium drones...echoes of swirling, improvised commune-psych...awesomely melancholic cold-world synths...and intimations of a limpid, PTSD ambient techno. Coming down hard, 2000 light years from home. In space no one can hear you sigh! Hand-numbered edition of 50. One per customer please.