from the LP Resin, Caroline Records, 1988This track is fucking spiked with Quaaludes man, for real: every member of the band just barely manages to keep time and remember to play/sing; I’m not dissing them when I say that, because it actually suits the song like a dream---a dark, candlelit, sedative-laced dream. Surprising as it may be, they hail from SoCal and were spawned from the same scene as 45 Grave & Kommunity FK; fittingly, their first single was released by none other than Factory Records (I say “fittingly” only because this track almost sounds like what Joy Division might have turned into), but by this release they had jumped over to gothic mainstay Caroline Records. Everything but the kitchen sink is processed to all hell here, particularly the guitars and drums, creating an exceedingly postapocalyptic vibe.
