“Oh, and maybe... just maybe it was the fat statue of Hotei, the laughing Buddha, cackling in my basement that set it off. Or it could have been the cheese curds. Or possibly, it was the kif... but at some point in the two years since I wrote the Pitchfork review of Banco De Gaia's *Big Men Cry*, Toby Marks went from soundtracking my walk through Wal-Mart, to orchestrating my synapses. (If you're n”
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