“Thanks to a job that requires me to travel frequently, I spend an inordinate amount of time on trains. This allows me ample opportunity to sample whatever promo delight I happen to be attached to, but it also affords said artist a particular challenge – namely, can you draw my attention from the hell that is public transport. Between the droves of marauding spawn tearing up and down the aisle and the fuck-knuckle proudly standing in the middle of everything with his fucking bicycle, sweet riffs are all that separate the general public and an omni-directional wave of misanthropy, and Scotland’s King Witch have them.” Riffs over humanity.
