hi spider

Wild mood swings of rythym. The juxtapostion of jagged guitar and broken post-pop melodies across a storm of drums. The voice mimics the shrieking of the lost aboard sinking ocean liners. The howling of werewolves at a feast of virgin brides. The pace is slashed and the songs suicidal. There are no clear statements here, no fashionable niches in which to set this impasto protoplasm of styles and groove. This is music to crash your car to.

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