Well, tickle my giblets and call me Butterball, it looks like Crystal Stilts are letting a little light into their rooms. The crumpled-up Twister mat above is the new digs for the Brooklyn psychmongers, who've apparently discovered color and displayed it for us in neat little circles. Gaze into them, lick them. The second one from the left tastes like a hybrid of cranberry sauce and blood. It's five songs short, it's called Radiant Door, and Sacred Bones will have it just in time for the locked-bedroom refuge some people call Thanksgiving. I'd tell you the necessity of playing it at full volume, but you already knew that.
Crystal Stilts :: Dark Eyes
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