A grinding halt on the North 405. Just trying to escape, that’s when I hear you sigh: “I hate this fucking town. I hope I never come back.” You roll your window up. And it’s so plain to see, like we’re staring into the bright side of this moon. And we’re just running away in the dead of the night. But we’re stuck in reverse in a sea of crimson lights. We sit in silence. You turn the volume up. I check the rearview and see the fire trucks. We don’t say nothin’, but that says everything. And we ain’t moving… Somehow the miles, they grow between. Like the distance, the years, and all the places that we’ve been… The basements, the graves, it’s an endless pile-up of love, of hate, of midnight traffic in my guts. And it’s so obvious to me the things I once could not see. We’re just running away in the dead of the night. But we’re stuck in reverse amidst emergency lights. The lights are flashing, the siren sounds, and through the jaws of life the blood spreads thick on the ground. But we ain’t stopping. And we ain’t turning around. I’ve got my foot to the floor, head first straight into midnight traffic. No, we ain’t turning around. We ain’t stopping, no, and we ain’t turning around.
supported by 20 fans who also own “Midnight Traffic”
Possibly the best album of one of the greatest modern Grindcore-adjacent acts. Gotta see them live and embrace the madness. In it's 24 minutes, this record will rip you apart. Lagerbottoms
Crunchy garage jams co-mingle with country on the Brooklyn band's surprise LP, a not-so-secret love letter to the Rolling Stones. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 25, 2018