For all the gargantuan music festivals we host in South Florida, we are always guilty of forgetting the home-grown -- the reason why others come to our shores.
for fringe methods of handling humanity. Like I've said before, he
operates out of the shadows of paranoia with simple tools that further
translate all that which is horrible and available in the mundane.
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He has weaponized a guitar and maybe this time added some creepy vocals to aid, which is okay because sometimes we need a reminder, especially when we get caught up in gossip... I can only wish he gets off his ass and releases his stuff in some kind of a limited, expensive, handmade vinyl set soon.
But all personal thoughts aside; this a benign ambulance creeping through the dead of night readied to collect your dead kin, this is a heightened feeling of abuse working its pangs out. Maybe it will work out okay and maybe it won't. It is not for us to say. The same way a painting can guide your thoughts, these sounds will do the same, if they don't... God help us all.
God help us all because I know you South Florida, you don't want to be the last invite to the party. The real party. Huzzah!