This series is on a roll. Like a batsman, (cricket reference for overseas readers), opening his shoulders having finally reached his century and looking for boundaries. This is from Shilpa Ray, a Brooklyn based artist and her fine album released this year Burning Bride. As often on here I recommend further investigation and will have to post more elsewhere. This is in the true, raw New York Punk tradition. She's particularly good on song titles. I point you in the direction of Colonel Mustard in the Billiards Room with Sheets of Acid.
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