For me, this album is totally unique. The title itself transports me internally to the world of memories and evokes a number of pleasant connotations. I don’t know if the authors did this intentionally or not, but the melody of the words Tales and Bleached and Chameleon is completely unique. Try not to infer meanings from the words for a moment, but listen to the fleeting melody of the words: Tales from the Bleached Chameleon. It’s as if drops of water were falling from great leaves after a summer storm, or snow lit up with pixels of red in the rising sun. The recording reminds me of old radio plays, where the story takes us into some completely different world without the obtrusive literalness of what we see. Now it’s hard to imagine such a thing, but in the past emotions were evoked more by what we hear than by what we see. This album is a tribute to the word and its content, which comes into being only when it is processed by our inner ear. Shivers run down my spine. Get into this story. I really invite you to do so.