"...the blue tinted mood of a seemingly endless night. Images of laying in a bed with no sheets, late on a humid night, a gentle rain smearing the windows and the black streets below, a woman asleep with her head buried in your shoulder and her body pressed against you swaying with her breath, blue wisps of smoke from a cigarette lingering in the thick still air. This music is the sound of relaxed-romance, romance after passion but before sleep. A strange mingling of melancholy and quiet satisfaction."

An excerpt from a fucking perfect review of Ike Quebec's Blue and Sentimental.

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