The New York based record label, Northern Spy, state:
"Like a fattened, holy ferret strapped to a Ford Pinto with a trunk full of Cluster & Andre Popp records, Cloud Becomes Your Hand comes careening toward impact with a hitherto unknown landscape neither liquid, gas, nor solid. Empyrean synthetic bleep blops, things that puff or drone and a reference to that sea beast from the Tanakh. Mallets from the baby age, and strings that beg the question, "Am I a violin or fiddle?" reach out to caress and rejuvenate the not yet dead ear."