From the very beginning of WTCHS’ offerings on It’s Not A Cross It’s A Curse! I feel like I’m being led somewhere I shouldn’t be. Steel strings are perilously clamoring towards the cavernous depths of a hell-mouth where my speakers used to sit, and I can’t stop my tendons from being pulled towards the unsettling tenacious patterns building around them. Guttural bass coalesces the careening echo of a ghastly proclamation, seizing these rhythms to its bidding while an ever-thickening air weighs its possession of the instance. As the incantation builds to a tumultuous fever-pitch, suddenly the sounds crest and I’m left sullenly withdrawn, if only for an instant—then a moment later I pick the needle up and drop right back into the depths with it.
http://wtchs.bandcamp.com