- Andrew Zukerman
Fleshtone Aura serves his spicy dinner with a tangle of source cassettes and electronics that deploy the deeply arousing aromas of both a series of poignant and extraordinairily well timed belches and farts (or the equivalent thereof) AND the grandest gestures of the sternest-most-serious-never-leaving-the-lab shut in tape music connoiseurs of days of yore...but, ah, those toots never act merely as a humorous apology, never slapping a stick just for slapstick, nor are those high brows ever talking down to us, they're just gifts, we're supposed to use them as catapults into the ??!!??!!.....a series of dynamics and moments (karate chop, massage, flower sniffing, paper airplane glides, broken table leg, spoiled milk, et c) that sometimes explode atop or beside each other in matter of seconds, or sometimes linger on a sweet spot for us to suckle sugary nectars....... these juxtapositions described cease being juxtapositions when heard, all moments contribute to a fabulous, pink-pulsing-writhing whole, the superflousness is left in the waste basket, even the meanderers meander with great purpose, leaving nothing but a strobing (perhaps beaked) body builder (who never bathes or waxes: why lie?) flexing themselves into a vast meadow of previously unseen flowers in some public park somewhere.
- Id M Theft Able