The Filthy Tongues – Back to Hell

Two years ago Scottish band, The Filthy Tongues released a debut album which quite simply blew us away. It was a striking and increasingly haunting incitement of “caliginous flavours and textures.” Such its gothic beauty and immersive intimation we wondered if the trio had already laid down their finest moment and would struggle to match let alone eclipse its majesty again. Oh fool us! The band has just unveiled its successor in Back To Hell, a web of instinctive drama and invasive magnetism which puts its predecessor and pretty much most things this year to date in the shade.

Edinburgh hailing, The Filthy Tongues consists of vocalist/guitarist Martin Metcalfe, bassist Fin Wilson, and drummer Derek Kelly; the three previously members of Goodbye Mr Mackenzie and Angelfish alongside Shirley Manson. After the demise of those bands, all ventured into different projects, musical and not, before Wilson and Metcalfe came together as acoustic duo The Filthy Tongues, named from a phrase from a Goodbye Mr. Mackenzie song. This project subsequently evolved, the three gents back creating together and vocalist Stacey Chavis joining what would become Isobel Gowdie & the Filthy Tongues (to become Isa & the Filthy Tongues). Moving on, the band became three again and The Filthy Tongues with the startling Jacob’s Ladder the irresistible wake-up call to their presence and dark world. That first album was a tapestry of sound and styles; everything from dark rock, garage punk, surf, dark folk and post punk aligned to plenty other rich flavours as the band created almost salacious realms of seductive craft and gothically shadowed deeds. Back To Hell is more of the same yet a whole new landscape of manipulative imagination, riveting sound, and lyrical weaving.

As its predecessor, Back To Hell ventures through the dark claustrophobic underbelly of the Old Town in Edinburgh yet equally it incites the imagination to broaden its landscape and conjuring. It opens up with the addiction sparking Come on Home, a track instantly sharing an electric mist of intrigue and dark suggestion before springing an infection fuelled stroll stalked by the vocal prowess of Metcalfe. Like the sounds, his voice has a dirt clad texture, a gravelly tone which just draws you into the narrative and atmosphere of the developing aural theatre. Keys similarly bring a teasing suggestion to the mix as rhythms and guitars openly simmer. Swiftly hips were swaying to its call, head rocking to its swing and voice aiding the wonderfully tainted harmonies. The band’s new single, it is just superb, that haunting quality in their music already seducing via keys and voice as guitars weave and rhythms coax.

It is an outstanding start reinforced by the senses transfixing tale of The Ghost of Rab McVie. Strings and their electronic counterparts quickly infest the imagination, the first from the suggestive touch and craft of Susannah Clark. Metcalfe is soon within their descriptive midst, voice similarly nurturing thoughts as the song leads the listener into its melancholic heart. There is a beauty to it though which just seduces ears and imagination but with an earthiness keeping the dark surroundings fully in view before the album’s title track provides the gateway into a nefarious journey. Feeling like being trapped in a Celtic Wickerman driven nightmare, the song simultaneously overwhelms, indeed suffocates, and seduces all with increasing intensity. It is quite superb with the craft of Clark simply irresistible.

Mother’s got a Knife follows, its animated shuffle also getting under the skin within the first dance of enterprise before slipping into a smouldering glide; repeating the captivating cycle in swift time. Like a mercurial fusion of Th’ Legendary Shack Shakers, The Bad Seeds, and Wall Of Voodoo with a Josef K lining, the track was another which seduced and enslaved with ridiculous ease such its masterful imagination and virulent breath.

Next up Leper Town was just as persuasive, its pop infested rock ‘n’ roll reminding of a few  in some small ways but as ever, so unique to The Filthy Tongues as it had body and thoughts bouncing and appetite for their invention greedy. That individuality is never absent from a song as proven once more by Carlos the Jackal, menace and tenebrific elegance soaking its predacious yet infectious prowl while Who are you? is the band’s creative theatre at its most compelling and beguiling. It too has a threat in its air and beauty in its dark drawl; addiction for its creative alchemy once more inescapable.

The album goes out on the mesmeric croon of Take it, a song with a whisper of U2 meets Helldorado about it and a dirty laced grace which just fascinates as layers of sound seduce. It oozes beauty, loneliness, and temptation; a crepuscular radiance of sound and emotion which steals attention from the real world.

It is a glorious end to another extraordinary encounter with The Filthy Tongues. Their Jacob’s Ladder was one of the essential releases two years ago, Back to Hell is THE most vital release of this so far and hard to see being eclipsed too often over the months ahead.

Back to Hell is released May 25th through Neon Tetra / Blokshok Records.

http://www.filthytongues.com/   https://www.facebook.com/The-Filthy-Tongues-144934250476/   https://twitter.com/filthytongues

Pete RingMaster 21/05/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Stoor – Self Titled

stoorJosef K meeting Wall Of Voodoo at the behest of Dead Kennedys with the rhythmic virulence and discord of The Fire Engines

No idea what is in the water over at Stereogram Recordings but this past twelve months has seen the label release a clutch of albums that simply ignite ears and connect with the imagination like no others. Amongst them have been encounters with bands such as St. Christopher Medal, The Filthy Tongues, and The Eastern Swell. Now adding to that adventurous collection of treats is the self-titled debut album from Dundee based outfit Stoor, a release which just might be the most impressive and ridiculously addictive of the lot.

The Stereogram Recordings offering is actually a full re-release of the band’s first album which was self-released on vinyl last year but sure to be the first real engagement for a great many with a quartet which rose up back in the first breaths of the nineties. Musically Stoor seem to embrace post punk/new wave sounds found in the couple of decades before their emergence, and though it is bordering on impossible to pin down their sound imagine Josef K meeting Wall Of Voodoo at the behest of Dead Kennedys with the rhythmic virulence and discord of The Fire Engines and the warped imagination of Pere Ubu in close attendance.

Centred around the off kilter invention of bassist/vocalist Stef Murray, drummer Scott McKinlay, and guitarist Ross Matheson with guitarist Davie Youngblood completing the current line-up, Stoor get straight into ears and psyche with album opener Secret World Of Cement. It is an instrumental which gets right into our already existing passion for post punk devilry, sparking the imagination with its cinematic urban soundscape. Hips and feet are swiftly indulging in its virulent Fire Engines hued strains as hooks and melodies tease and tantalise within something wonderfully akin to the most addictive sixties TV theme tunes.

It is a wonderful start quickly matched up by Liberator, a track just as rapid in its persuasion as spicy lures of guitar link up with the tenacious rhythmic bait laid down by McKinlay. The vocal tones of Murray attract like a mix of Jello Biafra and Pere Ubu’s Dave Thomas, expelling their earnest cries from within another seriously catchy stretch of invention before the brilliant Aye, No raises the ante. A fiercely seductive bass line invades first, strolling from the initial clash of sound to be quickly joined by equally salacious guitar hooks following the same route as Murray’s grooving. Like a pied piper the union draws the listener into an explosive crescendo, riffs and rhythms colliding before the temptation begins all over again with even greater strands of delicious discord involved. All the time Murray places a potent vocal grip on an already eager appetite, backed by the band within what is one gloriously repetitive and enthralling swagger of a song.

art_RingMasterReviewInfect Me steps forward next to keep the enslaving of ears tight, its Gang Of Four like rhythmic escapade chaining attention alone, the brooding basslines and stabs of guitar extra chains to trap attention and ardour. Bursts of raw rock ‘n’ roll only adds to the magnetism as too the distinctive and increasingly flavoursome vocals of Murray, here finding a Stan Ridgway flavour to his excellent theatre of voice. Between them Murray and McKinlay rhythmically have the passions chained up like Houdini, though no escape is possible especially as Matheson and Youngblood create a web of melodic intrigue and deranged drama.

Through the heavier almost muggy escape of Devil Rides Out, a song with a touch of Scars meets again Pere Ubu to it, and the pulsating psych rock infested instrumental of March Of The Molluscs, the album adds further diversity and creative theatre to escalate an already established habituation to its additive prowess, backing their success up with the punk rock of Frack where thoughts of bands like Swell Maps and television Personalities are sparked, though, as constantly across the release, Stoor conjure up proposals unique to their own senses entangling invention.

The calmer saunter of Open The Box comes next, its character a more stable affair but prone to Devo-esque twists and turns before making way to allow the psychedelically spiced Hold That Thought to serenade ears. To its warmer and gentler nature though, there is an underlying tempestuousness which channels its energy into a swinging post punk canter a la The Three Johns.

The bands new single Witchfinder General has ears and lust over excited next, its rhythmic romp alone an unshakeable grip with Murray’s bass swing a predacious seduction reinforced by the tangy weave of guitar and the eager dance of the vocals. Dark and mischievous, compelling and shadowy, the track is superb, a certain doorway into the album come its release though fair to say any track is a suitable invitation.

Going out as it came in with a mouth-watering, imagination stoking instrumental going by the name of Sure Beats Me, a piece which plays like B-52s engaged in carnal knowledge with The Shadows, the album leaves only an urgent urge to dive right back into its body of fun.

Stoor may have been around for a fair few years now but this is the moment they should be enveloped by the biggest spotlights, courtesy of an encounter which has to be considered as an album of the year contender.

Stoor the album is released October 28th on Stereogram Recordings digitally and on CD with the single Witchfinder General out on October 21st.

STOOR are supporting Brix Smith & The Extricated on Sunday 30th October 2016 and The Membranes on Friday 27th January 2017, both nights at Beat Generator in Dundee.

https://www.facebook.com/stoormusic/   http://www.stereogramrecordings.co.uk/artists/stoor/

Pete RingMaster 19/10/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Murena Murena – Shame Over

Pic © Jann Averwerser_klein

Pic © Jann Averwerser_klein

Genius or lunacy?

A question to ponder as Shame Over seduces ears and infects the psyche with its deranged carousel of dark imagination and off-kilter rock ‘n’ roll. The riveting aural amusement park of warped thrills and twisted adventures is the new album from Munich based Murena Murena. Though self-tagged as horror soul,  the release offers twelve tracks of unique imagination twisting alchemy embracing both genius and lunacy which, though hard to easily reflect in word, is maybe best described as Powersolo meets Wall Of Voodoo meets Nick Cave whilst lost in the realm of Twin Peaks.

Murena Murena is the creation of Daniel Murena, vocalist and writer/composer of some of the most irresistible cinematically lit murder ballads and sinister shuffles heard in a long time. 2014 saw the release of debut album Ghoaster Coaster, a slice of sonic and creative loco within which the seeds to Shame Over can be clearly heard. They are beginnings though which have blossomed into a proposal far more unhinged and seductively unsettling; an album of songs which work the ears and imagination of the listener like a puppeteer. With Albert Pöschl, Tagar, and Dizzy Errol alongside Murena, the band and Shame Over simply turn ears into an addict whilst sharing a cracked Sin City like comic book of noir fuelled escapades.

The album opens up with Newsflash Apocalypso, a dark romancing of ears with a rumble in its belly and a Yello-esque flirtation to its electro hues and devilry. Imposing in emotive dark and beguiling with a maze of vocals which trespass song and imagination, it is an attention grabbing start to the album and swift glimpse into the house of visceral shadows and provocative tales to come, starting with the outstanding Drag Race. Cowpunk rhythms and an appropriate swing quickly grip body and appetite with rockabilly devilment swiftly adding to the Cajun tinged stomp. Again vocals are a mesh of asylum bred incitement matched by beats and country hooks, an aligning of textures breeding a scent of Powersolo / Heavy Trash to its rascality.

The necrophilic romance of Le Van´s Wife immerses ears and thoughts in dank graveyard mustiness next, its soulful moon lit insight hosted by a sultry electronic glow framed by prowling rhythms. There is no escaping a Nick Cave hue to the excellent nocturnal disturbance and its smothering embrace of dark doings, or the invigorating diversity brewing in the album which continues with the reggae spiced bounce of Dancing Naked. The grouchy tone of bass enjoyably tempers the lusty shuffle of riffs and skittish beats hugged by the warm kiss of keys, a fusion of textures creating an addictively surreal surf/spaghetti western/ska flavoured hop

cover_RingMasterReviewCountry and rockabilly strands entwine the following Lovely Homes, skittery beats laying an eventful canvas for the smouldering dark charm of air and narrative of voice to conjure upon. Guitars and bass only add to the increasing drama, spawning a Helldorado like theatre that once having seduced ears and enjoyment, steps straight into the unbalanced horseplay of Pretty Please! which quickly has feet and thoughts  jumping like a psychotic mix of Th’ Legendary Shack Shakers and Johnny Kidd and The Pirates with an added twist of The Dancing Did.

The pair simply disorientates and ignites the senses before Peace swaggers in with its throaty Johnny Cash climate and vocal dexterity as rich sultrily hued melodies wind seductively and poetically around ears. The track epitomises the whole of the album and Murena Murena sound, there seeming little going on in the building of a thick array of textures yet every moment is a kaleidoscope of new noise and imagination which reveals more and more with every dark engagement.

A lighter dance is provided by Shy Goose, its sixties pop and electro rock dance a magnetic croon which gets right under the skin with bass and beats masterfully leading the infestation. It shimmers and erupts with increasing tenacity and bewitchment before being pushed aside by the addictive sonic and rhythmic agitation of Tu Tu. Sounds and textures almost seem to battle each other in the bedlamic stomp, but in the end they simply collude for a hyperactive rock ‘n’ roll waltz that leaves body and soul alive and ready to be drawn into the psych rock haunting of War Drugs.  In another twist to the album, it is a dark enveloping of the imagination which is alive with vocal psychosis and warped echoes of noise and emotion, and quite beguiling if equally disturbing.

Shame Over is brought to a close by the pair of Fossil Fuel and Fossil Fuel 2. The first is a throbbing draw of vocal resonance and ethereal electronic theatre with plenty of suggestive bite whilst its successor is a blues romancing equipped with nostalgic easy listening country-esque mesmerism. Both tracks sublimely bewitch with their individual imagination, a description which fits the whole of the quite unique and gloriously unpredictable, not forgetting wonderfully eccentric or should that be crackpot, Shame Over. Creative diablerie does not come much better or deliciously darker it is easy to say.

Shame Over is released globally by Totally Wired Records on April 15th @ https://totallywiredrecords.bandcamp.com/album/shame-over

http://murenamurena.com/   https://www.facebook.com/murena.munich   http://danielmurena.bandcamp.com/

Pete RingMaster 13/04/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

For more exploration of the independent and promotional services check out http://www.zykotika.com/

Salt -The Greenman EP

SALT Gen Pub Photo

With every note and twist of invention soaked in drama and unpredictability, The Greenman EP from New Zealanders Salt provides one of the more fascinating and thrilling encounters of the year. Richly flavoursome and drawing on a vat of varied rock essences, with a just as tasty spicing of new wave and alternative rock, release and sound invite ears and imagination into a mischievous devilry which persuades like a mix of Wall Of Voodoo, Oingo Boingo, and Midnight Oil but with its own unique character. It is an adventure to light ears and thoughts, feet and emotions, and quite mouth-watering.

Formed in the latter part of 2010, Salt consists of vocalist/bassist/songwriter Brett McGuigan, keyboardist Rachael Jane, and guitarist Mike Nelson. The Christchurch trio awoke keen attention for their imaginative sound and presence through debut album Radio Station in 2012, a release also diverse in flavour and with rawer punkish tenacity to its creativity. Recorded with Thom O’Connor, The Greenman finds the band exploring more expansive and inventive pastures but still retaining the energy and vivacity which its predecessor expelled to fine effect.

Going to the Moon opens up the EP, a song which has already been heavily devoured around the internet from its initial unveiling. A sonic coaxing intrigues before making way for a feisty Salt - The Greenman - Album artwork front coverswagger of riffs and spicy keys, all within a punchy web of rhythms. The core temptation is soon completed by the appealing tones of McGuigan and accentuated by the tangy grooves and potent hooks which frequent the contagious encounter. Not quite space rock but with a definite spatial breath to its fluid melodies and inescapable catchiness, the song is a vibrant and captivating start to the EP.

The following Indiana Melancholy has a dour but no less riveting air to its prowl through ears. Slowly making its way across the senses with dramatic textures and expression vocally and musically, the track has the imagination absorbed and then inflamed with its inventive shadows and sonic exploration. Guitars and keys again provide thick colour to a powerful rhythmic canvas whilst extra theatre comes from the mystique fuelled grooves and sultry mix of lead and backing vocals across the band.

The EP’s title track takes over next, instantly bringing eighties new wave and melodic punk flavouring to an invigorating modern rock recipe. Insatiably addictive and fuelled by a slightly repetitive nature, the song swiftly draws an already greedy appetite into its seducing bait, tightening its grip with every anthemic call of vocals and virulence. Its commanding persuasion is matched by the outstanding Mad Situation, a track with a rhythmic enticing and carnivorous bassline to sell your soul for. As the second song, a darker landscape is explored but with an infectious toxicity just as habit forming as anything on the release. An infusion of post punk only adds to the strength and richest of narrative and sound, whilst the melodic poetry of guitars and keys highlight and shine upon the inimitable theatrical dark of the song.

The EP is concluded with the similarly sensational, Crossing the Highway, a creatively tenacious journey entwining wiry grooves around rhythmic sinews as flowing evocative melodies cast by the keys spread their curvaceous charm and seduction. The track is breath-taking, edging the others for best on show though all leave hunger for more and blissful satisfaction in their wake.

Salt is a band destined to steal hearts and spark imaginations, certainly on the evidence of the strikingly impressive and delicious exploits of The Greenman.

The Greenman EP is available now @ http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/salt42

https://www.facebook.com/SaltMusica/

RingMaster 30/11/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Listen to the best independent music and artists on The RingMaster Review Radio Show and The Bone Orchard from

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Desolation Yes!: Out of Orbit

1359740062

Reaping the essences of electro, pop, punk, and rock with many other fiery whispers of sound in the mix, Scottish / Slovakian band Desolation Yes! has released their new album, a collection of songs which rampage with a hunger and instinctive need to provoke and confront. Out of Orbit is a release which perfectly satisfies with infectious enterprise and compelling energy, though at times it struggles to truly ignite the passions. Upon it though the band is experimenting and stretching their diversity with open imagination which is never a bad thing.

The Glasgow based quartet found an escalation in interest in 2008 when the band began working on their debut album, CyberNation with Scottish independent record label Neon Tetra Records, which was released in 2010. The singles Templeton/Instinct (2007) and Future Pop (2008), which subsequently appeared on the album, found a strong reception and soon found extensive radio play to set up the album release as well as a wealth of impressive reviews whilst the band shared stages with the likes of The Whip, Crystal Castles, Alec Empire, Howling Bells, NoMeansNo, Simian Mobile Disco, Jubilee, and Mortiis. 2011 saw the current line-up of Paul Elliott (vocals/synth/programming), Jagged (guitar/programming), Miro Cuba (drummer/percussionist/synth), and Shisho (bass), begin work on Out of Orbit which easily gives evidence of the time and thought the band put into it.

The album explodes with a bang in the ear through opener Shivers and the following Atrophy, both sinewy charges of electro rock with industrial and pop teasing. The opening song initiates contact with electro pulses and taunts before stretching into a rampant surge of bulging basslines and coarse riffs loaded with the expressive vocals of Elliott. The song brings restraint to its charge at times to allow a breath to be taken before the high tempo riot resumes but by its end the listener is found breathless and enthused about the prospects of the album ahead. The following Atrophy unleashes a more electro voice though throughout the guitars and bass add a snarl and bite to the synth driven wash whilst the beats of Cuba resonate with power across bone and senses. Both songs have an over powering feel of Wall Of Voodoo about them, in sound and in inventive use of aural colours.

From such an impressive start maybe a drop in intensity and temptation was to be expected and despite the likes of One and Silence being accomplished and satisfying songs they do suffer alongside their predecessors. It was a tall order to contend with and the first with its slight Placebo/ Stan Ridgway tasting stroll and the second with its emotive lure both are pale in comparison though as stand-alone songs find a firmer hold.

Repent with its Axis Mundi like mischief and industrial/trance like rock and frantic gait lifts things once more though lyrically it passed by only raising an eyebrow at its lyrical intent. Musically the song is an urgent and forceful agitator to get the pulse rate up once again, if still adrift from previous heights, and is soon backed up by the growl of Radio. From this moment the album slips in a punk attitude vocally and bite musically which fully grabs a returning intensive attention and appetite.

Army Of Flesh is an intriguing soundscape of militant drums and dramatic keys with image evoking cinematic samples filling its suggestive air. It is an excellent track which firstly exposes further diversity in the song writing and imagination of the band whilst its climactic vocal repeat of the title offers a Theatre Of Hate inspiration which in turn ignites thoughts and emotions in the listener.

Hitting the dancefloor with a brewing tempest of electro pop and thick imposing ambience, Psychoelectrical coats the senses in a testing expanse of industrial/synth rock with rich rewards showering from its melodic skies and burly veins whilst the closing pair of Tech and America ensures the release departs with a couple of challenging and provoking slices of punk electro power.

Desolation Yes! and Out of Orbit leave strong satisfaction and enjoyment behind if also a sense it missed an opportunity to exploit greater heights and fires within the listener. Very worthy of checking out though followed by multiple returns

www.desolationyes.com

7/10

RingMaster 04/03/2013

Theatre Of Hate

The Mourning Sickness: Gets In A Ruction

Bored of the usual structures and routines in indie rock music, the safe and rule following creativity which leaves one satisfied for short bursts only? Then time to check out The Mourning Sickness and their latest album Gets In A Ruction. Now this is a release which will have you at times scratching your head in disbelief and struggling to understand what is going on but it is also an album which is a refreshing piece of fun. It is hard to know why it works so well and it will without doubt spark individual and distinct reactions from person to person, but it has to be said any time in the company of Gets In A Ruction is only enjoyable.

The Mourning Sickness is a progressive/rock/noise trio from Denver, Colorado. Formed by guitarist Matthew Maher, the band has been conjuring unique sounds for the past seventeen years or so. Completed by bassist Jeff Dunn and drummer/percussionist Joe Wilkinson, the band has gigged extensively yet been ignored by local media and the underground scene according to their bio. One can only wonder if their unconventional intent and sound scares most off but it is surprising they have remained relatively invisible over their years listening to their album. Gets in a Ruction is the fourth full length release from the band and  whether it will raise their profile any higher with its compulsive sounds one doubts though it deserves to;  if  they have struggled until now it is hard to imagine much changing, not that the band truly cares one suspects. Released on Enjoy Your Symptom Records, the album offers a mix which can only be described as Wall of Voodoo and Pere Ubu spliced into the genes of an offspring between Spizzenergi and Cardiacs. It is a sound which draws you in and then mystifies and excites equally.

The release opens with Snow Wimps, a track with quite irresistible grooves and unpredictable juggling rhythms. Unpredictable is the best word to describe the album, no prediction of what is to come has a chance of being accurate such the warped imagination going on. From its quirky swagger the track unleashes a brief punk driven rampage to be swiftly followed by a sultry progressive weave of elegance, the strolling jazzy shadowed bass sounds a constant core through all the aspects the song offers. Vocally it is a little challenging but with a slight Stan Ridgway lilt soon that part of the track proves itself too.

The following Beelzebufo with its ska tease and mischievous tale of prehistoric devil toads took a while to win its case against personal preference but ultimately did emerge as a decent enough pleasure though never to the heights of other tracks like its successor Octopus. The song can be best described as ska/blues  punk though no track fits a defined tag even remotely to be honest. One of  a few  which borders irretrievable chaos, it leaves a massive grin on face and emotions alongside the ever present quizzical look.

Richard, a song about men with the name ‘Dick’, and impressive instrumental Iron keep the fires of sheer pleasure burning bright, the first a simple melodic canter complete with Cajun discord and the second a neatly crafted and contagious piece of metallic enterprise. By this point the album has proven to be nicely varied and quite unassuming considering the directness of the maniacal imagination going on.

As songs like Distaste For Food And An urge To Vomit, a song about teenage eating disorders, the discord breathing  Only Good News Show, and Bubby Peak  taunt and disorientate thoughts with their devilish invention and lyrical irreverence, the last of the trio about outrageously large male members, it is impossible not to be engrossed in what the band offer. That enthrallment comes with strong enjoyment too to make the whole experience great  fun hand in hand with a slight disbelief to how it works.

Musically the trio are certainly skilled and accomplished which adds to the effect and strength of the release, their ideas and creativity maybe bent out of recognition for most but its technical delivery rivals any one. Ending on the excellent final scarred expulsion that is A Study In Tyranny, a song which would fit perfectly in a modern version of the album Do A Runner from Spizzenergi, The Mourning Sickness has produced a release which given time makes for one thrilling and unique experience.  Gets In A Ruction is not going to work for everyone but certainly deserves a chance to plead its case, anyway what have you got to lose….. apart from your sanity.

http://www.themourningsickness.com/

RingMaster 24/10/2012

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright