Listening to the entire album is a journey to the center of the Milky Way in a '57 Chevy with Stephen Hawking and Frank Zappa in the back seat...Hunter S. Thompson riding shotgun. Time is malleable, has it been 5 seconds? 10 minutes? A month? It's not relevant. Time is not stretching, twisting, & shrinking...you are!
Gazing into the fun house mirror of linear space-time's defeated form,
the intangible becomes the banal.
The hum drum well behind us now.
Wandering through the myriads of landscapes on the album
we abandon the elemental framework of physics.
The modality of mayhem lurks in the shadows of the structures.
You, yourself, are free.
This is Electra.
Brilliant no more.
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