This release exists for an interesting reason. I was at my friend Michael's house in the summer of 2013 where he discovered a random, unlabeled cassette tape that was clearly a consumer's blank tape - although at this point it was no longer blank. It was like the tape appeared out of nowhere, as it was the only one in the room. Knowing I was using cassettes to create experimental music, Michael let me have the mystery tape so that I could potentially tear it apart and create a loop from it.
We briefly listened to the cassette at his house, but with bad EQ settings and no time on our hands, we only discovered that someone was speaking - almost unintelligibly - on the recording. It wasn't until I got home to my own house and bedroom that I listened to the tape properly, and in its entirety, to realize what the speaker was talking about.
In short, it was strange. I was entered into the deep personal feelings of a person I didn't know, and will never know. Michael doesn't even know the speaker (whom reveals his identity), thus making the origin of the tape and its placement in Michael's house a bizarre mystery.
To me, the speaker is either drunk, suffering from a speech impediment, or is mentally disabled. Either way, there is a sense of suffering and sadness I can feel. It's like there was a hopelessness that inspired the man to pour out his love for his mother and father. And he weaves a wild tangent to describe his mother as an angel or a goddess - something that supersedes all women and mothers in the world. His love for her, and his father, is seemingly endless, and passionate.
I worry about the speaker and where his life may be. Context clues has me assuming the tape was recorded in the mid-1990's, thus possibly making the speaker a middle-aged or elderly man in present time. I can't help but think he was in a drunken stupor or mental breakdown, perhaps even on the verge of suicide, when these recordings were made.
Christian, I hope you're alright, and I'm glad you love your parents so much.