Tobacco's music feels like music from another world, a simulated and dangerous world. Like it's from a game that recreated moments from your life in perfect fidelity. Less virtual reality than, like, a reality-adjacent reality. In the game, you could go in and re-experience your first-ever date, or the best high-school game you ever played, or a transcendent day at the office, or, on the other hand, you could explore your most embarrassing moments, your times of desperation, the purest nadirs of your life. The thing was, with the game, that you could, in any of those scenarios taken from your life, imbue yourself with one extraordinary power, so, for example, you were invisible during that high-school game and therefore you could score 1,000 points, or instead of shitting your pants at summer camp, it turned out that you had the ability to fly, so you could just take right off out of the woods and hit up your own sweet bathroom at home. There was also the possibility of inserting yourself into moments from history, though the fidelity of those was a lot lower: they lagged, the details weren't quite fine-grained, the play was all pretty buggy. People almost never opted for the historical moments, though, they mostly chose the incidents from their personal histories instead. And the problem was that they never stopped playing, once they got in. It was so absorbing that they would never voluntarily choose to exit.This is all to say that Ripe & Majestic is hard to stop listening to. It's pleasurable grooves and attention-grabbing rhythms. High-quality diversion.[BUY Ripe & Majestic]