Robedoor

Way too much is made these days of looking back, memory, social network fantasias. What a bummer, cause reality s a bad experience and 2012 is on deck; we deserve whatever we get. Evolve or erode, dudes. LA visigoths Robedoor slip into another sinkhole of voidist shadow-rock with Pacific Drift, three new tracks recorded across the last greylight winter. The A side stirs into a jazzy apocalypto depression with flute-keys and an overdriven OM groove that spirals in a web of distortion before drifting out to sea/silence. The flip finds a pair of deeply mutated RBDR genetic codes, one a mantric death-punk protest song cloaked in smoke and speed, the other a 3 AM slow-motion soul implosion set to upright piano, descending bass, tear garden guitar, and acid rain. The coast is a ghost, the city seethes. Mixed and mastered by M. Geddes Gengras at Green Machine in east LA. Black vinyl 7 inches in sleeves with corpse-diver artwork and a band photo by Caitlin C. Mitchell. Edition of 500.