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The western blue.

Someone has finally found the "western blue . They were months of diligent research and sick, but salvation was, because with all those pills, medicine without effect, the continuation would become torture, cancer and then getting worse. So now it's shot, but it (with the passing of whining) is manifested differently, not necessarily under the name of "return" , from bitter that the first couple minutes strongly towards a new claim status, evolution, involution, a transformation, a change of course, a prequel and a sequel in the mind of his vecchiarda Mac, a bit insane as usual when it comes to being "solo ", and then themselves, however, in music, regardless of the label when hung in groups, filled with the desire for more noise, the noise goes to diversify. I mean that a patient suffering from dementia than once is still in full trauma, perhaps just the beginning of the same, with the orbits wide open and fixed on the blank and the dirty shirts to collect all the mites Bainco hospital. Therefore, this work is that the next time a lucid madness is latent, an increase in the actual sound manipulation of what might be termed an experiment by the thrill of age: beats dumb and maimed, sometimes invisible guitars from dirty to disgusting if not devoid of that sense, and as many piles of macabre storytelling reminiscent of crimes As branded in memory. So, if you already did last year due to fear that his grin istrionesco (appropriately rendered "melodious", hopping and cantabile), this one, the one that puts the blue of the American West, still terrified by playing their music battered, scarred, scratched and soiled as they could, in a primitive state of insanity and just over half an hour long. But what I could see pearls in the past, it still look pink at dusk or dawn the next day: 'Lava bones' is a fresco painted with colors that only later will be shouted everywhere, while the title track twists and the shock equal to delusions so already proven to be upset with the drool dripping on the floor. The flow from quake there, the machinery and the presence (with) too damned. Do not really miss anything to be able to attend, after seventeen months, the birth of their third child rabid Mac Blackout.

Music by: Mac Blackout
Photo by: Cammy Lou Who