Not to be confused with STRANGERS or STRANGER or MAKING OUT WITH STRANGERS or STRANGERS, St. Louis freaks THE STRANGER welcome you into a shadow filled walk through the early night with five tracks of urgent and urgently flanged weirdo muzic. Dual guitars jangle aggressively, doing battle and dancing off of one another while manufactured misanthropy oozes from the backside of the microphone. The slows ("Decay," "Ritual") have that perfect sqrm that you young hung punks go apeshit for, but this old head gets wild for the early FLAG meets PERE UBU vibe on "Stranger With My Face" (yeah - figure that out, right?) and the unhinged burn of "Visions" that closes the tape. This band ain't new fodder for wise observers of flyover punk, with a wax platter on Lumpy already under their belt, but it's important to keep coastal elites and foreign dignitaries in the loop.
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