THE DWARFS OF EAST AGOUZA 8211 Sasquatch Landslide 8211 LP 8211 180g Vinyl

LP – Limited Edition 180g Black Vinyl housed in 300gsm jacket + 300gsm inner, both printed LE-UV on reverse board. Includes DL card. Only 500 copies pressed. Pick a small spot (a point) in front of you (a small knot of wood, a dog down the way). And tightly focus on this spot. And now slowly unfocus your gaze. Widen your gaze. Pan out without moving your eyes. Take it all in. A smeared and pixelated surface, swelling of contour and light. (Monets seepages of light, Altmans overlapping nomadic dialogue.) Once you have unfocused with little to no center of attention, slowly close your eyes. And please feel very free to notice the light. All of the light that your eyes knocked back as you dilated your focal point. This exercise can be repeated a few times. Unfocusing does not always come easily. And it is probably best to not put too much effort into it. Best to not employ too much pressure. And we will not put too much pressure on this exercise to help us explain away the humidly, saturatedly psychedelic canopy of moan-n-twang and slackelastic-groove of The Dwarfs Of East Agouzas Sasquatch Landslide. Mitch Hedberg has a great joke about the Sasquatch: I think Bigfoot is blurry. Thats the problem. Its not the photographers fault. Bigfoot is blurry! And thats extra scary to me, because theres a large out-of-focus monster roaming the countryside. Sasquatch Landslide. A landslide of hazy configurations. Blurriness, far from a lack of detail, is an embroidering of detail, a horizontal expansion of surface and swarms of light. The name Sasquatch derives from the Salish word se\’sxac, which means wild men. And Sasquatch Landslide is wild. Everything is unravelling. Offset. Dcalage. A whole host of slippery tempos and pulses as the organs, guitars and saxophones loiter and lope over a skipping hop of beats, and everything emerges always mid-stream. It is all middle with no halfway point, no dead center, no bullseye. Everything twangs, moans, sweeps, slips, swings, skitters, slides, and grooves out of nowhere. And the almost-human voice with no mother-tongue. There is something ecstatic (an elatedly miniscule frenzy) going on here but it is pushed beyond the ecstatic: a joyous-grotesque rolling right past trance to dance. Psychedelias appear out of the infra-spaces in between the apparitions and overlapping regimes and registerspushed and squeezed far beyond the recognizable. And these spaces groove joyously hard like some kind of illusive House music, houses completely submerged in molasses. BigFoot-work? (Oh my!) There is not a place to throw your anchor here in the furrowing humidity. That does, and it does, sound like some kind of landslide. A psychedelic encounter is a brush with the marvel of otherness. The point from which we speak of other, becomes other itself, in an ever-storm of other-production that shreds ideas of knowing and understanding what we think is going on. Time unhinged from the clock. Space unhinged from the frame. An unpinpointing hallucination, a hot get-down, an untethered throw-down of oscillations, fiercely, joyously, exuberantly incomprehensible. Listening to Sasquatch Landslide, a wildly unhinged reverie. Eric Chenaux and Mariette CoustyCondat-sur-Ganaveix, February 2025 Tracklist: 1.Swollen Thankles2.Saber Tooth Millipede3.Double Mothers4.Titular5.Neptune Anteater6.A Body To Match7.Goldfish Molasses