The mixtape, in its literal form, seems eerily obsolete. This website holds onto its visage like grim death, a point of pride among our legion. Those doomed to a world post-mixtape will exist in a sad world, one without hope springing eternal or the discovery of a band that would otherwise never hit our radar. It’s this inspirational well that The Lemon Tape is drawn from. Hell, just look at the hippie, happy cover art. It’s sunshine all over this cassette, coming straight from the unicorn and rainbow capital, Montreal. Shit! Quebec is not only seeking independence, it’s also stealing psych-pop from under the noses of capitalist Canadian swine! Oh, what joyous rays of subversion to be soaked in! The Lemon Tape is the world’s greatest mixtape, steeped in Montreal’s finest psychedelic purveyors. The lazy swoon of Brave Radar’s “A Spike” fueling a quick sprint across an overgrown field. The Capital of Plastic Daffodils pillaging 1960s Frisco and repurposing it with scratched sexuality on “Princess.” The Yesteryears tapping into a world where Jackie Browne stars Joan Baez rather than Pam Grier, the ferocity of drug trafficking replaced by a gigantic hookah soul-out. It’s all peace and love here, sugar.