Heart Meat

When Tinnitus Rex gets together to play, they rarely know what’s going to happen. Will magic happen? Will a fist fight break out? Will one of the band members go to the bathroom during the middle of a set and not come back?

It’s this spirit of unpredictability that drives Tinnitus Rex. Sometimes the music (in this case, a term loosely applied) could drift into bright safe, vaguely familiar places and in another moment it could be wildly spinning off the road into a dark ravine inhabited by ogres armed with electric cattle prods and ball peen hammers.

A lot of times, the first time an audience hears something from the band it’s also the first time the band hears it themselves. Driving without a map while blindfolded.

This record is an attempt to take that on-the-verge-of-catastrophe atmosphere into the controlled environment of a recording studio – to meld two processes of oppositional direction into one new direction that justifies the existence of both.