Sunday'king o'th'underworld launches another assault on th'square denizens o'planet earth by announcin he's bad'n its great to be alive, two thangs cuboids're never sure o'...this is half hour o'sunset strip trance voodoo straight outta th'swamps that permeate o' th'back alleys from th'other side o' th'tracks...always hated by th'music industry for his tendency to make pure rockroll'n make/lose bundles o'bread without seeminly tryin, just comin on in a sheer whirlwind o' fun type madness'n just generally kickin out th'jams...he'd been list'nin to th'stones 'let it bleed' while knockin this out with refined keefisms over purloined riffs from his past'n'musicians're top flight session cats doin afterhours when they got thru doin some laurel canyon snooz-up all day, cuttin some hotcha metherdrine psyched boogey frenzy while kim invokes howlin wolf to utter th'netherworld beatnik poetry...


Anonymous Mrs Blast said...

Thank you, Spaced!

1:00 AM  

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