Last month, I found myself in the mossy green arms of the N.E. seaboard, on yet another adventure into 21st Century Bohemia, where I got the chance to jam with experimental darkwave group Cyranoid, headquartered in the heart of darkness of Brooklyn.
The improv musical session resulted in this song.
Yes, that’s me on vocals. Yes, I know, I sound like a tart.
Just to make it clear, I’m technically not singing on this track. I’m more or less using my “boots of shiny, shiny leather” voice, which disturbingly sounds like a teenage strumpet with the extracurricular activities of Laura Palmer. No, you cannot read my diary. (Or are you reading it now?)
Cyranoid is comprised of Pharwolf and Mr. Nothing. I’ve known these assholes for what seems like an eternity. You may have not heard of these motherfuckers here on Earth, but they are huge on Mars. HUGE. Continue reading