biscuit mouth

so you disappear for a time, no word, no postcard and sneakily reconnect with reality with no warning or simple ‘hi. How are you’ – huh … I don’t know, kids today eh? If it weren’t for the fact that we tripped across this by sheer accident then we’d have never have been aware of its existence. The latest from Biscuit Mouth who you may recall at various occasions in the dark n’ dim past popped up here too much satisfied fanfare and hullabaloo. Latest from their wired workbench a head trepanning 13 minute sonic siege going by the name ‘eating the ice cream, coming back’. Bludgeoning stuff of the type that used to fly out of the more feral backwaters of the much missed Gringo and Brew imprints of yore, a mammoth workout that one suspects is impishly testing both your resilience and resolve as it lounges in it swamp gnarled pit menacingly fixing you with its dead eyed stare to cook up a sludge gouged freak storm whose roots twist and strangle with a primitive Gnod like glee crafting out a head hammering hybrid of ravaged and decadent psych soul blues voodoo. Guess that covers all bases then.  

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