Albums like this, when taken on by your central nervous system and you begin to release the neurochemicals, emancipates you from the expectations of music you cultivated while listening to all of that silly radio when you grew up. I, myself, practiced for this on Microstoria, Oval and the like, back in the nineties, so I rather enjoy having someone fuck with the vinyl of my memory.
I wonder what M.H does for a living. albinobone