For the follow up to their self-titled debut for Bluesanct, Pacific Walker went in search of the occulted answers to cosmic inquiry, charting a star-crossed course across the elder seas of private-press new age cassettes and back-catalogue self-help tapes.

Still waters run deep and from those depths, the guiding light they find may lead them to an eternity far beyond their third-eye ideologies.

Like Ted Lucas on a brown tab from Gibby Haynes, our sonic travelers find themselves lost in the slushed waves of shadowy enlightenment, phasing through dimensions, space echoing across their minds. Sea-sick drones warble like the drug-thick tongues of true believers, while hymns of a scorched church policy are strum out into the endless sacred night. And even here, even now, from the soft blue underbelly of the colloidal aether come the kosmiche whispers of some kind of guru. An invitation. An invocation. A journey. Lost in the Valley of the Sun.