Listening to Califone's album, "Roomsound", I feel like I'm stepping in on a late night acoustic jam session somewhere rustic that I can't really put my finger on - is it down by a bayou? or out on a front porch by waving grasses? It's hypnotic stuff, repetitive at times, yielding some kind of bucolic trance. Darned if I can make sense of the lyrics, though - "when you fall you fall like fists of snow soaked in turpentine". I've found it's best to let the trance take hold and let the lyrics slide past as sonic texture rather than as concrete meaning.
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