ROSELIT BONE: Self-titled: Cassette

This duo has taken the time to listen to Hank Williams and the like, rather than concocting some sort of imagined version of what Hank sounded like, which is what I think a lot of bands of this ilk do. On top of their mournful, dusty country, they layer lyrics that are often sick and upsetting, delivered without tongue in cheek or wink of the eye, but with a wail and snarl that makes you wonder how long it’s going to be before they do something really bad.

 –mp (Sunscoured Shehog)