He might find her in the meads
Or on the Isle of Apples
His wounds, She will be healing
Enchantress of the king
All the magik in her hands. . .
All the magik in her hands. . .
All the magik in her soul
Is trying to find a way to draw his mind
To what he needs to know
She could show him every sigil
And ancient craft
Cleanse him under a waning moon. . .
All the magik in her hands. . .
All the magik in her hands. . .
All the magik in her soul
Is trying to find a way to draw his mind
To what he needs to know
Draw his mind to what he needs. . .
Somewhere far in unconscious strands
Memories of the Summerlands. . .
Memories of lead turned to gold. . .
Myths and legends to recall
The dark must fall. . .
Light conquers all. . .
All the magik in her hands. . .
All the magik in her hands. . .
All the magik in her soul
Is trying to find a way to draw his mind
To what he needs to know
Draw his mind
To the secret she has known
Deep in the mind, the real magik
Lush oscillator sagging analog synthesizers draped with hooky vocals, tasty sax riffs, and classic electronic drum sounds; makes one believe the 80’s never left. A golden era re-lived, fantastic! Jeff Jewkes
Gritty, granular, time-stretched overtures for outer space exploration or oceanic transcontinental divides. Dark, suspenseful, and wonderful. Jeff Jewkes
Juxtaposed street beats with African rhythms and instrumentation. Overlaid by the forlorn urban strains of muted trumpet and open flugelhorn. This is a haunting and beautiful masterpiece. Jeff Jewkes
An ambitious pop song cycle about human loneliness and fear, thick with harmonies and buoyed by tight musicianship. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 27, 2018