every guitar screech and amp crackle is carved into my skull. the bass comes in slow and low and repetitive, an incantation. it sets my soul on fire it always has. this album will never die. it doesn’t sound like a live gig it sounds like a ritual. cavernous atmos, electric w noise accents but earthy — the bass, the slow pendulum pace, keep it earthed. this could be played at a crow funeral. a crow wake. but not just any crow. he was sweet 16, teen dream, acab. the wake goes for 12 days