I spent much of the years 2003-04 drinking bad beer and getting into trouble with a punk crew I shall refer to as the Kids of the Black Hole. Mid-way through the winter, I fell in like with one of the anarchapunks in the crew. She had everything! Silly-colored hair, a bad attitude, and serious drug problems!
The first time we hung out was at a bad loft party somewhere on Chicago's north side. Halfway through a terrible Screeching Weasel cover band, she dragged me into the bathroom. Assuming we were gonna makeout, I was happy as a heroin addict with a fix. That's when she sprinkled some crushed Valium on a bowl fulla weed and started smoking, then handed it to me. After a few minutes of this madness, my head started spinning. As we emerged from the smoke-filled bathroom, we fell over each other and arose to find the cops busting up the party.
My head felt like this EP when I climbed out from under said anarchapunk gal, blitzed on bad weed, worse beer, and crushed downers, to be confronted with some of Chicago's finest: fucked up and painful in a way that made perfect sense. It's a side project from the fine folks who do Piresian Beach.
LISTEN TO IT HERE, fux.