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Moon Goose put Space, Psych, Prog and Motorik in a bag, shook it, poked it, burned it, then spread the ashes from the top of the Welsh Mountains with the wind in their face until their eyes were crying black tears. It’s the sound of a dragon colliding with an asteroid. If you enjoy things like gneiss, spores, and strange ideas followed through to an illogical conclusion, you’ll love Moon goose.