Can't top that comment that went before, but that mccoo/davis track is real nice..bassline reminded me of Melting Pot. Dug the whole mix. Great stuff.

stoked at this prospect.
cymbals and the drum dropped, rite between benson's easy lines, the licks of harmony stick to my eardrums like a lollipop to a child's hands. easy as the wind if you let it can, ruffle feathers atop a bald pate, oh this my native headdress, you wait listen squawking when talking the crow tells a murderous story, hanging out with friends in gory bars in Brooklyn. she beckon a voice like a perch, i arrest lightly on his lyric, having a fit, the tantrum of spit flying through time to the corner of old rooms, hollow ring hitting the toons with a felt tip pen or the magick in you markers. scene claps to the inception of shutter winking in the red lit room drinking you negative ion respiration, hold up, whose waiting for an inference not yet understood to make its point. my nose clogged with the acrid smoke of ganja from the mosh pit. joints of shoulders flex and pop, shaking your fist at the drummer to stop with the half-time and let me get mine. knees going off like a shotgun not as young as i once was, just then, in the present a gift an unopened bottle of begin,again you strange melody want to be lazy making it in the hay rolling the notes around the same way you play, fumble my tongue, looking for a highscore or at least a fun place to sit/
ummm wait... who? out in the moonlight looks like a solar flare, arc in your underwear and pen is the stick, i hope i can make this MIG/TIG rod work for a hot seam, dreams stuck together with flux, the visor down and shucks, i just can't, i just can't, i just can't read the schematic or figure out which medium will stick these two so good,different metal heads together. silly of electricity, i am of the positive current, event melted at a very specific location, under there music influence a close type dancing, following the steps up with shots, the ultra fast flutter of eyelids catching you in slow motion/stop did. telegram disco rip out of the wires under, glass growing looking into an aquarium showing strange species what is engendered in the desire for solace. a coral reef, or a dessicated shelf of formerly livid saltwater. ought you stream this consciousness into an estuary, or like as not the rhythm of the egrets wings should tarry overlong and then seize. cease up and lying down gasp one last, great cay great man, great islands and better volcanoes, the pahoehoe melting up the cities street, the fire hydrant bursts and then leaks, the children with strong feet dance and then sleep, on to the next anew day with the old gas giant smiling, benevolent oxygen wild when a lungful unlimbers its timbre, HELLO! i like the music so, i commend you strange breed hanging from the vine, punch through the rind with your strong mandible and tooth, i know at some point this little forest will bare fruit, melons born of the delicious nature of when, sin once had no flesh to cover its primacy/
oh whim of vinyl wrapped nearly too tight about the body needles you, wax turning into genuine flesh, the tallow runs and the candles a messy pool, from where the drip let his love slip before there was a regulator to the valve, warren was still a (g) input any inference you see fit. the goon is sick, the loon is loud, and this foolhardy gangster is proud to spend his dwindling stack on a broad like that, fat stroke of backside swishing in time. if it was a mountain whom could call thyself Hillary? ill take a sherpa any day if it'll take me closer to the precipice of saying how you make me feel, streaming from my mouth, the temperature of my heart is out, in the breeze, catching up with you please, speed up my heartrate tempo is a whim so, dance more faster better and brighter, spin around in the magnificent electric disco watching magnets of speakers direct the flow, to the source through it and back, its not my fault its a chemical reaction with synthesized guitars and keyboards the catalyst, the point of all the moot exaggerating is never in my life seen a leopard mating with a tiger, and we aren't so different or are you calling it a lyre. old funk and new shoes, my passion is on a hardwood floor, and im trying to push up more than the hump on my back, straightening out the sad fact that i'll never be beautiful in the [sic]-nes of your eyes/
but i solemnly swear, to attempt to get there, next to where you are, so i can dribble on your collarbone some marred thinking, up too late at night drinking the liquid malevolence off the bow of you lips, the petals droop before they drop, give me some water instead and i'll... i'll... be no less horny, could have sworn my story about the bees would have brought the honey in your thighs to well above room temperature, hot enough like sweat and thought enough like no less viscous, the vivacious sparkle and the vicious houselights, darken, the body means nothing when you say slave to the beat, after its all said and done i'll put the salve on your foot, danced blisters on your toes, in the throes of discs jockeyed in ecstasy, i remember you twirling next to the _various partners_ like a reckless wannabe binary star. blowing up in the ceiling our laughs are the dreams of clouds, raining like soft chatter on the windows it doesn't matter, we'll still go out, we'll still sing, and i'll still bring my strange breed of roses, to your altar like the attar of prose, is?
great mix. really heady stuff