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An Ode to Kallax (Cheeky Mix)

O blessed box of Swedish birth,You give my wax its truest worth.No bowing spines, no leaning stacks—Just perfect rows of sonic snacks. Four by four, you stand so square,Yet hold such chaos deep in there:Detroit thumps and Belgian haze,Half the Warp back-catalogue phase. Your modest frame knows none of pride,Yet hosts Aphex on every side.Autechre […]