A matter of discipline and there falter of, in that margin of shapeless… Harness of those bad graces bred in rural dissent, dark comedy of the everyday. Where prohibition was just a stretch of road to purgatory. O’ Dear friends, remember how we watched the pillars of our youth come crashing beneath those throes of light? With a slue of nepenthe at hand, savoring every shred of its lush. The way logic crushes like velvet under the weight of the devils wing.
supported by 5 fans who also own “Throes of Light”
There is something purely authentic and honest about Infant Island's music. These songs are substantial in their impact that go deep under the surface. The sound mix is everywhere (track 3 on headphones?!?!) with some of the slower nuanced moments giving needed space for maximum effect when the violent intensity hits. But on career highlight "Awoken," they leave nothing behind. A must hear song from an increasingly important band. bcb723