Sitting in a car, your head is pressed to the window. You’re looking out, but not focusing. The images, outside can’t be distinguished, but fold together forming a blur. Like images folding together, A Message from the Sun, cannot be distinguished with generic constraints, but rather, moves through them. AMFTS have been a work in progress for the past seven years, progressing one minute and fucking up the next. However it’s though their mistakes that freshness is created, moving around the word pop but never truly belonging.
Their music is twisted and deceptive. They lead you down a path to telling you the destination, but by the journeys end you realised that they lied, and you find yourself somewhere completely different. Their notes will haunt you and caress you, and no matter how many times you hear it you’ll never get used to it. By each songs end you could feel empty or fulfilled; however you’ll always want to come back for more.
Their new EP encapsulates their history, defines their present, and sends a message to the future. If I could describe it I would, unfortunately you’ll just have to listen….
Hells Found A Home