from my Always Crashing email / still reading: it's pleasing! but dense! reminds me a little of Will Alexander's work

BRADLEY J. FEST / POSTROCK — always crashing

And though our motionless childhoods linger, nonetheless we’ve deconstructed their original shell. Don’t worry about being cast out, thrown; our becoming is lodged. Fixate on anything: the plunderphonics, the full shred thrash of my lists, the doorknobs, drop ceiling transfers—it’s all here and done, made, said, thought; your attention can’t be ill spent.