Fucking hell, Denzel Curry and Wilma Vritra? I really am a fucking insufferable BandCamp edgelord white boy, aren’t I? You’re all waiting for Earl Sweatshirt now, aren’t you? I’ve definitely have a ‘Die Lit’ poster above my breakfast bar, don’t I? Because I absolutely have a breakfast bar.
My husband and I wake up every morning and bring our coffee out to our ‘Die Lit’ breakfast bar and sit and talk for hours. Every morning. It never gets old and we never run out of things to talk. Love Playboi Carti him so much.
God, I fucking hate me.
Do you get the impression that I also like Weezer as well? This all definitely gives off ‘Weezer fan‘ vibes, doesn’t it? I’m just the fucking worse.
OK, cool whatever, I don’t care. Unless you accuse me of being a Weezer fan. Then I’ll get angry. Wilma Vritra though? This is some superior shit. This is goated with the sauce.
I don’t think many artists are as experimental and as sonically ambitious as the ‘musical ensemble’ Wilma Vritra. With their 2019 debut they smashed it, and with this extraordinarily both beautiful and lyrically extensive follow up they smash it even harder. I get the horrible feeling that you idiots are all sleeping on this musical ensemble, and that horrifies me.
Also, Wilma Archer? The ‘Wilma’ part? Fucking Geordie! If you combine Los Angeles with Newcastle-upon-Tyne this is the result?? Prime Radiohead sonic beauty?? Yeah, I kind of always knew that.
necessaryevil.blog 
2 thoughts on “#19 Wilma Vritra: Grotto”