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Guys planning on killing their women are
gonna love this record, man, because thats what it sounds like, the
prelude to a murder of passion. Retribution, shallow graves, guilty
cigarettes and flop sweat. Im not sure where the Deadly Snakes are from
they move around a lot, see but I do know they wrote this bitter harvest
in a log cabin in the wintry wilds of Nowhere, Ontario, while going a
little more than slightly mad. Hence the dirty black gospel and the
bleating funeral organ and the sudden bursts of joyous horns and elegant
strings. It all sounds decidedly Australian, like a less boozy Beasts of
Bourbon or more scurrilous Bad Seeds, but desperation, sadness, religious
ecstasy, lunatic joy, and cold blooded murder are all universal concerns,
really. Gore Veil will make you weep, Sissy Blues will make you laugh,
and
Oh Lord, My Heart will make you tear off your shirt and scream at the
Heavens. Its just that kind of record. Get it and start planning your
next fiendish act or grand, noble gesture, whatever feels right. ________________________________________________________
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