*100 copies limited edition* Sun Araw first released the Prayer Tapes in two separate volumes back in 2012, a set of long form improvisational solo work you would easily be forgiven for missing given the prolific activity of Cameron Stallones around that turn of the decade period. They're more than worth a revisit now, heady, zoned-out excursions that seem to emerge in a fog of purple-y gloom. It's typically humid exploratory work from Stallones, that beautifully dense Sun Araw sound that plays with the aesthetics of drone-based new age spiritualism, but thankfully manages to steer well clear of the vapid wellness evangelism others were fetishising at the time (and still are, let's be honest). He's a smart cookie is Stallones, but he's also primal and instinctive in his experimenting, the live aspect of these recordings lending the whole affair a physical element that's refreshingly impolite and free.