A scathing, furious attack on the Bush government and its foreign policy, it opens up with 'Fuck Your Fear', a slow grinding barrage of distorted, hazy guitars and pounding, tolling-bell drums. Eckman and Torgerson's joint vocals describe a world teetering on the abyss in which the 60's hippy dream has long gone rotten ("Dead folksingers lie in state/Acolytes scrape off their plates/The message falls onto deaf ears") and death comes quickly and in abundance ("New gravediggers born each day").
Walkabouts - Acetylene review by John Clarkson