Whatever this is. It’s like a cool cigarette burn on the tip of your index finger. It gnaws at you. It bothers you to bits. You suck on it, even if your finger is dirty. Because it’s there. It’s live. It’s in effect. It resonates, that blaring fog-horn; asking the ships on the horizon of your mind to kick it up a notch, and settle in the harbor.
Territory you conquered in the battle of the ‘Hastings’ dream field.
Whatever this is.
It’s that cool cut on your torched and damaged finger.
The gang in WILD WILD WETS presents, in a single or in album frame of reference, a delectable – and unconscionable – slicing of that audible experience, we can only imagine.
The new album ‘Prisom’ to drop July 21st.