Sometimes melancholic, sometimes dimly hopeful compositions perfect for drives through the Mojave at dusk. The suggestion comes with a warning: Spaghetti Western may induce hallucinations of a Parisian circus circa 1890, slow-mo, black and white, flashbacks to a dizzy meal at La Mela in Little Italy, or of rainy Sunday mornings in a dark bedroom, illuminated by a PowerBook G4, eating Hershey’s Kisses, keying MP3 reviews into Movable Type.
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