Mon Khmer – Mon Khmer

I went walking in a wood, it was cold and near dusk. Around my ears I wore the season; brittle and chilled. Through a copse of trees the wind rattled denuded branches, and drug its bony fingers through a rustle of fallen leaves. Although it is uncomfortably the markings of winter I’m warmed by the fiery embers of Mon Khmer. Each song another indefatigable log in the grate: “Close To Nothing” and “You Better Run” burn crimson and gold. Mon Khmer is the sound of the space in-between objects, in-between the noise of other bands and distant stars; and really what a great place to be. Peace.

“Passwords”

I know this will not sate you appetite for Mon Khmer so click here.

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