No Pain In Pop

This Heat and This Dirt, Again

One day we’ll stop fluttering our charred ‘lashes in your direction glowing acolytes, we promise – but for now, it’s Friday night (threshed, deathless Friday night). About to head once more for the mire of drunken London, we flutter, gobs agape, teeth on parade, knowing not how to do anything other than bring you something else vaguely Italo, something else vaguely disco.

Except it’s not – not at the outset anyway, which seems to swelter in what remains of thiz dayz rayz. No; at the outset Hecuba seem bottom half-buried beneath fading liquid – water, sweat, Amontillado, whatever – as the lax mouth of Isabelle Albuquerque surveys lost gulls and fragile hookers in a manner calm enough to make the mind’s eye section her off behind the blacked-out window of an ailing Capri. For the most part, ‘Baltimore’s a dark-eyed dub bound for the soft clink and sangria velvet of the private members’ club, but still… it’s definitely bound for somewhere.

MP3: Hecuba - Baltimore

And they called it “delirious“.

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Tags: baltimore, hecuba