Listen to the tunes.
Watch the video.
Download the album.
Purchase the discography.
Thank me later.
Oh, and ignore this review:
Ready the incendiary RJD2 into the revolver. Aim discriminately at a brooding Dmitri Shostakovich sampling the elusive Prefuse 73. Fire across the bows of a rewound Johann Sebastian Bach before ricocheting past Boom Bip, and you'll fast forward upon the man John Peel shot the breeze about until he sneezed.
Roll the tape for: layer upon layer of rhythms and melody; Eskimo glockenspiels; cut-from-scratch chemistry peeking through a shadowy keyhole.
Iron Out San Francisco will leave you rooting around in the wrought iron daisies growing under your feet. It might well affect you profoundly [...]
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