New Dead Radio Bio

Burning with the scream of The Modern Man and his dedicated trek toward extinction. New Dead Radio are mercenaries conducting commando raids on the archaic fossil of rock & roll…lighting up the painted husk with deathbags-o-dust and kaleidoscope munitions. Insert disc into audio device. Hark; when I hear the music of New Dead Radio, I hear the distorted bacchanal of martial dirges, fluttering in the Wasteland between damaged synapses and the motor-combustion clank of malfunctioning organic machines. I hear it mirrored in the raw crunch of sawed-off guitars as they grind, buzz, & squawk in elliptical orbits that never complete their jaunt. I hear it in the dementoid, unprocessed carnival bark of the vocals...packed with bile and surging with disgusto. And most of all, I hear it in the unrelenting pummel of a rhythm section forged in the engine room of the Rorschach Underworld…as they marshal Grey Spirits into a malfunctioning dervish. This is New Dead Radio-Coup d'etat FM-broadcasting at May Day-Call Frequencies from the Leaning-Tower of Los Angeles, CA…at Negative -100,000 Watts. Fahrenheit fuzz in the Electro-Magnetic Spectacle…crippled squelch and binary codes broken and drooping like elephant ears in the SunShower-NumberHole of Daylight and Nightknife. Theirs are lives burning with the scream of postmodern-cavemen freaking in the face of modern technology, alternately toying with the Future Switches and attempting to destroy the Owl-Eyed Circuitry of all the things we are sold…and all the things we'll never have money to buy…lost in the static of a numberless forever and detuned to the melody of destruction. Burn on.