Hobo Cubes - Serpensulla Gardens [Bridgetown; 2012]
I was always too scared, too shy, and too weird to play Seven Minutes in Heaven, but Frank Ouellette brings me 27 Minutes of Bliss with Serpensulla Gardens. Ah, the butterflies swarming in the pit of “Shade Bathers,” the bated breaths of “Keygen Atmospherics” whispering galactic nothings into eager ears. My heart skips a beat as Serpensulla Gardens leans in for the makeout. The gentle caress of “Hypnotherical Fascination” seamlessly turns into heavy petting and youthful exploration. I quiver with anticipation but before the magic can imprint itself on the moment, the closet door comes swinging open as gleeful laughter and anxious eyes coax out the adolescent lovebirds. Ouellette’s colorful palette of space and time is nothing more than a Summer fling, pre-teen bodies dreaming of adult themes as they gaze into the night sky. This is music of sweet intention and happy remembrance without nostalgic pretense. Just embrace these 27 minutes of knocking knees and sloppy kisses.

Hobo Cubes - Serpensulla Gardens [Bridgetown; 2012]

I was always too scared, too shy, and too weird to play Seven Minutes in Heaven, but Frank Ouellette brings me 27 Minutes of Bliss with Serpensulla Gardens. Ah, the butterflies swarming in the pit of “Shade Bathers,” the bated breaths of “Keygen Atmospherics” whispering galactic nothings into eager ears. My heart skips a beat as Serpensulla Gardens leans in for the makeout. The gentle caress of “Hypnotherical Fascination” seamlessly turns into heavy petting and youthful exploration. I quiver with anticipation but before the magic can imprint itself on the moment, the closet door comes swinging open as gleeful laughter and anxious eyes coax out the adolescent lovebirds. Ouellette’s colorful palette of space and time is nothing more than a Summer fling, pre-teen bodies dreaming of adult themes as they gaze into the night sky. This is music of sweet intention and happy remembrance without nostalgic pretense. Just embrace these 27 minutes of knocking knees and sloppy kisses.

Hobo Cubes - Serpensulla Gardens [Bridgetown; 2012]
I was always too scared, too shy, and too weird to play Seven Minutes in Heaven, but Frank Ouellette brings me 27 Minutes of Bliss with Serpensulla Gardens. Ah, the butterflies swarming in the pit of “Shade Bathers,” the bated breaths of “Keygen Atmospherics” whispering galactic nothings into eager ears. My heart skips a beat as Serpensulla Gardens leans in for the makeout. The gentle caress of “Hypnotherical Fascination” seamlessly turns into heavy petting and youthful exploration. I quiver with anticipation but before the magic can imprint itself on the moment, the closet door comes swinging open as gleeful laughter and anxious eyes coax out the adolescent lovebirds. Ouellette’s colorful palette of space and time is nothing more than a Summer fling, pre-teen bodies dreaming of adult themes as they gaze into the night sky. This is music of sweet intention and happy remembrance without nostalgic pretense. Just embrace these 27 minutes of knocking knees and sloppy kisses.

Hobo Cubes - Serpensulla Gardens [Bridgetown; 2012]

I was always too scared, too shy, and too weird to play Seven Minutes in Heaven, but Frank Ouellette brings me 27 Minutes of Bliss with Serpensulla Gardens. Ah, the butterflies swarming in the pit of “Shade Bathers,” the bated breaths of “Keygen Atmospherics” whispering galactic nothings into eager ears. My heart skips a beat as Serpensulla Gardens leans in for the makeout. The gentle caress of “Hypnotherical Fascination” seamlessly turns into heavy petting and youthful exploration. I quiver with anticipation but before the magic can imprint itself on the moment, the closet door comes swinging open as gleeful laughter and anxious eyes coax out the adolescent lovebirds. Ouellette’s colorful palette of space and time is nothing more than a Summer fling, pre-teen bodies dreaming of adult themes as they gaze into the night sky. This is music of sweet intention and happy remembrance without nostalgic pretense. Just embrace these 27 minutes of knocking knees and sloppy kisses.

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About:

Justin Spicer is a pop culture critic, writer and editor. He manages Tiny Mix Tapes' Cerberus section. He has written columns for KEXP, Ad Hoc, Impose, and SSG Music. His work has been published by The Village Voice, Brainwashed, and extinct websites and print publications across the globe. This website is a collection of many of Justin's articles, reviews, and features. You can contact him via the links in the side menu or ignore all of this completely.

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