In a bleach blistered highscuzz of scorch-rattle garage, The C33s let out 3 minutes 30 of beautiful scratching and scrawl. No let up from open to end. No pause to look back ’til it’s done with. Veins throb and pulse to a pressure sustained by the purging of squalor and power.
“My Octopus Mind have created a world with a clear set of feeling and colours. And while pretty and loose, its confusingly dense, as oppressive as it is free and open…”
“Clean in intent, neat in their imagery, sharp in their focus and fever… But we’re just six months in and these things need to breathe, we’re still in the shaping and smelting…”
“Do I admire the tenacity or balk at the ego of an EP entitled ‘Please Sign Us To Your Label’? Given that Indigo might just get what they ask for, I’m tempted to go with first option…”
“As if the first song is the light at the entrance, that welcomes and beckons you in, inside is a thoughtful and contemplative writer, sensitive to loss, grief and loving…”
Rats on the Run 