Deadbeat Wax Poetic For This Our Last Resolve

We are living in precarious times. A senile, racist old man prone to temper tantrums has his tiny hands on the controls of the most powerful military machine the world has ever known. A handful of his (no less dangerous) international business associates and personal friends possess more collective wealth than the rest of us put together. The oceans and forests of the planet are dying slow deaths by asphyxiation, force fed 300 million tons of single use plastic garbage every year, and the temperature, both literal and rhetorical, rises the world over with each passing day. The formerly quaint ritual of rolling out of bed and reading the morning news over a cup of coffee is now an act reserved only for true sadists. To start each day being reminded that we have wilfully engineered a reality of such profound injustice and utter stupidity is enough to make the blood of even the most devote pacifist boil with rage. Rage in of itself however is the most dangerous of emotions. The burning torch of the riot and the mob. If the results of it's expression fail to provide at least the possibility of change for the better, then the rantings and ravings it fuels are worth little more than the breathe spent delivering them. Hope then, it seems, is the key to allowing us to carry on in the face of so much non-sense. On his latest studio album, we find Scott Monteith aka Deadbeat ruminating with hard earned wisdom and confidence upon this very notion.