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Left coast sound funnel that shaves forty score cortex cells off on contact. A rock band you see, with the power of a jar full of out of code Oxycotin, hitting it hard on your sorry pate. The attitude may be sickly and the guitars may bleet, but this double guitar troop furrow with FX of truly claustrophobic origin and seek the shiny skin inside your ear. Up until now they have left some 7 inches and a LP, but their pale limo arrives to the door and goes right on in. Go through this green door and go cruising right on through with the hot breath of a Sex Church blowing over shoulder. This record really arrives and tells a heavy tale, so please sprinkle some lighter fluid on your skin and hop into the fire. While not the record to start the party with, this will make perfect sense when you reach for the last can.