Few people are as good as injecting pure veins of blackened, rotting dread into the sonic canvas of the world as singer-songwriter/hermit/mystic/magus Scoττ Шαlkεя; every release he's done since the early 70's seems to reach deeper and deeper into some abstract realm of madness that underlies reality, bellowing up his throat like golden bile...and it is truly wonderful to behear.
If you love your classic 50's pop blended raw into the industrial and dark-eyed avant-garde, I'd be surprised if you didn't fall head over heels for Tнε Dяifτ and all that dwells within.
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