a limited edition, and last ever, repress - it is no secret that rvs is not truly a record label, but is in fact a downy creature of the forests! in keeping with this faunal existence, our whiskered beast has recently returned to the foot of a familiar shrubbery whence it emerged and has begun burrowing fiercely at its roots. in doing so, it has unearthed a vast and dusty tome of innumerable chapters, named the reverb chronicles, that details over 20 years of foraging habits. hence, we present the first four-part volume of the said opus for your perusal and distraction.

as spring casts its glow over the barren and fissured valley, the whiskered sciurine known as rvs can be seen emerging cautiously from its burrow opening, out into the crisp hillside breeze. revitalised from her slumber, she lets out an abrupt and shrill chirp that seems to declare all at once, -it s party time and boy do i have a corker for you-, one that reverberates across the landscape permeating every bush, branch, pasture and crag, where lifeforms large and small may otherwise be spotted scuttling in their daily forage. the other beasts awaken, and realise that it is time . with some dexterity and slight of paw, the rvs rodent produces a shiny black disc from the folds of her fur and flings it high into the heights of valley, exploding into a rainbow bursting with every emoticon known to the internet, thereupon thundering the sounds of asadinho s when we come to it across the streams and tree-lines. commencing with the silverlining remix, then the original, then the track titled koppaitch, each member of the wildlife community remains hypnotised with this incomparable detonation of sparkle, rhythm, and the poetics of the mighty maya angelou. as the display descends into the foliage and dissolves away, the rvs scriurine pauses to compose herself then retreats to her work cave to get working on the next of these black discs and the wildlife convention she calls the rvs weekender.