Aurora Plastics Company
Low Noise (Live at the $100 Misunderstanding)
Crunchy Food/ Bobby J

Even with the Eagles on somewhere in the car (the frontseat women keep scrambling back to the beginning of Lyin' Eyes, although I scream from the backseat for a little more of that Witchy Woman), I keep hearing strains of this moment rise up from this car's wheels on the gravel roads, of unholy rubbings of molded plastic and metal, or punctured speakers blown and fluttering amongst the sine-wave debris naturally emanating from all Wal-Marts in small Texas towns, fluctuations calculated and fucked up by each piece of gravel shrapnel on the damaged highway below me.

Even with the Eagles on somewhere in the rest of this here car, I still hear a sound, a sound like this one here, which is a sharper stele steel nipple (its areola removed by your own finger, fork, and thumb clip) snipping and poking, edging ever closer towards the quick, slip-sand soft and sulphury (as is Masonnaic manured masonry, or a baby's butt) area near your body's most sacred and tender alephs and openings. It can be subtle though baby, as is the art of riding fences.

If you ever wanted to know what this here car sounds like rubbing itself into a tizzy and then into a dizzying spin of disintegration (The Teeth of the Lightning Illuminate), which is just another a day in the life in the fast lane, or what Sun Ra heard in his own head when he had his last heart attack, his celestial Celeste coming for its own idea of a last supper (Perfecting Imperfection by Spitting in Beauty Mirror Reflection), then this CD from Aurora (comprised of Low End Lars and Anne Heller) is surely the thing to take you to the limit one more time.

label contact: Crunchy Food/ Bobby J, PO Box 8695 Austin, TX 78713, USA.
Artist contact: 815-A Brazos Austin, Texas 78701, USA.

Copyright © 1999 Andy Beta