The pit is a wormhole shield that conveys emotional energy into a frozen vacuum where it floats in stasis like the discoloured specimens of a crippled race. The pendulum is the razor-sharp condensation of molten dreams flowing inky from the alcove at the pinnacle of the witch house. Mushy brandishes both weapons deftly, deviant chanteuse of the shadow gladiator arena.
Faded Heart is the field recording of a night of slo-mo psychic bloodshed at this crumbling coliseum, a debut of uncanny mystique and ghostly enigma accomplished beyond the glummest dreams of most drag apprentices. It drenches pages torn off Zola Jesus’ grimoire in the thick waters of the swamp where Christine Baxter drowned, deep in the woods of a death country shrouded in thick ambient mist, roamed by shapeless beasts of Lynchian origin.