Thursday, 31 July 2008

Cathedrals of Sound

These Arms Are Snakes. A natural force, that thunders with constant contradiction and challenge. Self-described as, “Four men with a chronic black cloud overhead; bitter, bummed out, and bored,” they couple dark pessimism with an elemental energy that does not end.

Is there a solitary word in this example of linguistic fly-tipping that would make anyone exhibit even the tiniest flicker of interest in hearing them - even if they were making, say, the last even vaguely musical sound on earth?

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