...ah, th'cutout bin, th'second hand deletion bin that so many small disc emporiums used to have tucked away in th'dusty recesses that only busto-crusto heads took notice o', th'broke down hep cats made a bee line for th'aforesaid bin cos therein' laid th'jewels o' long lost fashion, psychedelic overspill that no one seemed to want except th'right thinkin' cats who knew to sort th'wheat from th'chaff...th'beauteous debris o' rock was waitin' to be discovered'n nurtured, th'likes o' WCPAEB/13th floor elevators/silver apples just called out for a friendly open face to gather them up...four decades ago tom rapp/PBS had residence in th' bargain bin 'n then onto hepsters pads for a mere pittance, hence they were th'reefered queit darlin's for many a year until completely fallin' off any 'n every radar for another two plus decades...beautifully stoned 'n tranquil songs just right for late night stoner pads, make up this th'last waxin' under th'PBS name...once heard th'voice o' tom is not forgotten...