incantations iv: I feel all my childood & its dreams in this video my father & his brothers & their seventies stereos: born into the space age watching all the menus collapse like when you plonk a person somewhere deep IN SPAAAAAACE! well, what does that make synthesisers, then - pop? billions of commenters on the new tube [heya ... ] & still you think that's nothing special? get this into yr thick skull: it's all about the fucking comments - all of them! & when the melody collapses into now, you'll know it! you'll believe it, then: crystal clear, a memory of childood & its dreams, the melody's menu shattered & deep space empty except for the one person in it! o keyboard warriors! sentimental new age jazz hearts! interstellar phenomena reduced to saucepans & seas! time-lapsed breathing & our curled spoons of sleep ... i'd cry GIVE IT TO ME, NOW! were the sounds not already trapped inside the machine; we're just waiting for the lights to go dim: Another Aussie here wiping away tears - chil dood.