Pop songs aired out and pasted, blown dry in today's new air. Old School psyike reimaged in 21st century, formed and free stripes n' dots. Lyrics to make us laugh in reverie, lines from the private libraries of the nobility of old, fucked. The jocundity of White Fence. Since stewarding Hair, we'd chased a shadow, guiltily wondering, who do we disenfranchise to make the pleasure of working with them ours? Suddenly, without warning: the arrival of a bulging, slight package at our door.... (read more)

Artists in this story: White Fence