Today, smoke from Canadian wildfires eclipse the horizon, the beauty of Spring struggling to emerge from beneath a suffocating gray. Twenty years ago, three maniacs poured their hearts into this record. Channeling an earnestness antithetical to Gen X irony poisoning, a bright sprig of Spring searching for light in the haze of the independent venues of the day. You can hear a band striving for pure beauty. Beauty in the tension, in the release, in the transcendence. Beauty in reaching the absolute limits of your abilities as a musician and a mind. A swing for the fences that connects, however fleetingly.
