“Murk” rhymes with “lurk,” and the two words
couldn’t be more appropriate to the Fever Dream Horror Scene modus operandi. Dead
leaves blow in late autumn around the goth-rock trio as they perform for ghosts
at cemeteries and are cheered silently by the sidelong looks of likeminded
outcasts. Like a half-speed Stellastarr* worshipping at the altar of Bauhaus,
the Bloomington, Indiana, trio celebrate post–All Hallows’ black masses in
overdriven majesty, shattering basement windows with titanic blacklit
shockwaves.
Not gonna lie, this is a lot of fun.
Reminds me of when I was in college and digging
through post-punk and new wave back catalogs and mixing it with gallows humor
(or just the gallows) as I barely gave a shit about anything anymore. I’m
reliving that now with Fever Dream Horror Scene. You can too with one of these
gnarly EPs, limited to 100.
--Ryan
Posts
