The air was cold but his face was awfully warm and worn. It looked as though it had been rubber stamped or had been burnt crisp beneath the faint glow of an oven. It was bloody sore. Walking through the ice cold abyss he wondered if he might ever reach the tip of planet earth - he was seeking the most northern part of the glove, a place in which man did not venture and was never supposed to. Upon his back he carried a beaten and battered tent whilst the dogs marched onwards up ahead in the distance. Their footprints were all that might guide him home.
Mori Ra returns with more splendid edits for Berceuse Heroique - an imprint which has proved itself time and time again as of late. These are perhaps the most club orientated outing on the label in recent times. Listen below:
Follow the label on Soundcloud HERE.