Angry and sober. 14 songs by 2 of Bloomington's most under-appreciated post-teen nihilistic thrashers and 1 life-long mad scientist working on some kind of world-collapsing program. Could be likened to laying down in a tanning booth, but by "laying down" I mean "swimming", and by "tanning booth" I mean "lake of mid-western, bass-heavy, guitar-driven, drum-led structured fuzz" playing from a stolen car stereo wired to your living room speakers. You could call it math-rock, but you'd be a poseur and would have to get the hell out of my bedroom. Lyrics about discarded coffins and adult confusion. 300 copies on black wax in all!