Segaworms normally has his balls-to-the-metal and a bass in his hands. However, this go-round, he puts his fingers on the dial and goes channel surfing, where wavering microcassette loops crash into the sands of lo-fidelity, wrecked and docked. Prepared brass drones, until the great unraveling, travel with thick spreads of lower bass Hz, while radio personalities interject with grotesque garbles. There’s moments of total blow-outs... and moments of beach bum mellow (short-lived). There’s moments in the meadow: acid achenes float with wispy cotton tails leaving their seed heads out-of-stock, stripped like a bald fish bone.
Fear, real and imagined, factors in heavily with the concept - e.g. “Mysochiroptophobia” (look it up - you may have it). The cover follows the viral concept; it sports a healthy spread of germs, not off-topic visuals for Segaworms, who has dealt with swarms, infestations, centipedes, swarms, and scavengers in the past. It appears the man gravitates towards legions. And towards tapes. On tape.
http://segamentedworms.bandcamp.com/
-- Rick Weaver
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