For the first time in the annals of history, two of our favorite supreme beings have joined forces to present us with a powerful musical offering like no other. One half of this united awakening is SPIROS, the romantic phantom hailing from the Mediterranean who’s given TNUC three musical journeys in the past (SPIROS I, SPIROS II and SPIROS III). The other is Kurt Sloan, the spirit-obsessed warrior of the wind who’s blessed us with such mixtapes as Deep Mountain Meditation and Ride Like The Wind.

Just this week I received this letter postmarked from an undisclosed exotic location…

The letter read the following:

The search for Tammy Hutchins had come to a crossroads. Al the clues had dried up. Kurt Sloan had nowhere else to turn. He had to seek out the guidance of the Seer. In all his years of being a bounty hunter in the Arizona deserts, only once before had he sought her council. He took one last look at Tammy’s photo, wondering where she could have gone. She was a classic West Coast babe – her blonde hair glistened with hair spray, and her well-tanned and oiled bod was covered by a white one-piece swimsuit with a high hip cut. He carefully folded the photo, put it into his back pocket, and revved the throttle on his bike. He was off to Sedona.

Kurt climbed the deep red sandstone steps that spiraled up the butte, until he came upon a hollowed out cave at the top. Cedar smoke and incense poured out the entrance as he brushed aside the beaded curtains, and took his place on the hand-woven Navajo carpets. He was face to face with the Seer for the first time in years. They sat in silence, with only the stillness of the desert wind between them. Then, without a word she rand a Tibetan singing bowl, whose deeply resonant pitch ran throughout Kurt’s body and reverberated around the hollowed out stone chamber. She opened her pale, translucent eyes and looked right through Kurt and into the mesas and valleys beyond.

“The Great Spirit sees all things my son. He has given me these visions: I see a crisis of Spirit. I see a young woman trapped in a labyrinth. I see a phantom watching over her from his villa. He sings of passion and lures her towards realms beyond.” She grew silent as a shadow fell across the whites of her eyes, and her wrinkled face strained in concentration.

“Interesting, yes, yessssss. Yes, very interesting indeed. I can see you now. Amidst the Gardens of Illusions and Mirrors”.

7 Months Later…

I have found him. These must be the fabled grounds of SPIROS himself. I see the shadows of his villa silhouetted by the soft moonlight. With each step I take the foliage becomes denser, the fog grows thicker, and the labyrinth becomes even deeper. Hedges, marble statues, and grand fountains await me at periodic intervals, serving as an ever more complex series of landmarks. Between those landmarks I brushed aside ferns, ivy’s, palms and tropical fronds.

But, something else entirely happened to me there. Something I cannot begin to describe. My identity, my very spirit itself fractured, reflected, refracted, and echoed around the gardens, and I lost all sense of who I was. Suddenly, I had many identities, I was many selves, many possible experiences. My spirit entered a gateway into the Astral Plane, where it fused with the eternal flame of SPIROS himself. What came next cannot be put to mere words. So, all the beauty, the passion, the mystery, and the menace can be found within this mix journey, formed during our union in the Gardens where all identity becomes lost. These are but some of the myriad of experiences that I and now you will have amidst The Gardens of Illusions and Mirrors…

– Kurt Sloan

P.S. I would like to thank Uncle T on his tenth anniversary for giving a mysterious stranger from the Mediterranean a place to call home. And for allowing these wholly original creations to evolve and flourish over the years.

Now further your journey:
Kurt Sloan: Deep Mountain Meditation
Kurt Sloan: Ride Like The Wind


  1. This is an absolute banger of a mix. Perfect for sipping on a ‘colada or margarita by the pool, popping a ‘lude and working on my bodacious tan.

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