down the oily way…

I used to crawl under the covers with a battered and badly recorded cassette of this album.

Some days, nights I would fall asleep to the burbling synths and glissando guitars and wish I was in Paris or New York or London anywhere than my bed under the covers wearing headphones and listening to Gong.

I was crushed when my cousin told me that Gong were no more.

3 thoughts on “down the oily way…

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