Hue Blanc's Joyless Ones Bearing On The Moor

The pride and joy of Algoma, Wisconsin, HUE BLANC'S JOYLESS ONES provide the soundtrack for those who feel that it's their destiny to bury at least one body in a swamp someday, except the only thing resembling a swamp in their neighborhood is a beach full of twigs and dead alewives, crushing their spirit utterly. It's the music that asks-then answers-the eternal question of 'what if the Dirtbombs were ten years younger, and hailed from some remote fishing town in Northeastern Wisconsin rife with unbridled Caucasian-ness?' It's music for people who want to slip in and out of the shadows with drizzle building on their glasses on a foggy night, with their heads in some unmentionable vortex of substance abuse and depravity, except they've got two drummers and therefore make too much fucking noise to sneak up on anybody, so they might as well just let everyone know what they're thinking right up front. Hue Blanc's Joyless Ones produce too violent a racket to be the Dream Syndicate, run too tight a ship to be Flipper, and are from way too far up north to be the Gun Club. Their dense-packed sonic soup is the kind of music that keeps parking lots dangerous and substance abuse interesting. How's your parking lot looking?"-Rev. Norb Rozek. 500 copies on randumbly mixed colored vinyl.