ALBANY DOWN ~ South of the City

The oppressive heat of these sounds and the mosquito bites of the sub-text, together with those muttering Will-o’-the-wisp marsh-born guitars, create a sweat stained blanket of melodic loops that lazily crawl around the landscape like snakes on the prowl in the tangle of a mangrove swamp

My Ruin – Not a Bloody Goth Band

“Where are my girls?” She shrieks. “Let all the girls come through – let them come up here – I like to be surrounded by the Women of Rock…” She was soon to be surrounded by her slaughter of innocents.

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