"Cole Palme's songs just refuse to date. At least not in the 25 years I've been among the lucky few to know some of them. They're like a magical exotic species of onion with endless layers of meaning. Some of the onions are dark, some light. Some presented raw, some lightly sauteed, some deepfried. All uncannily delicious and addictive. In academia they complain that poetry is dead, but anyone who listens to hip hop or Cole Palme will know that whoever says that simply doesn't know what they're talking about."

— Greg Saunier