Sounds like an Avant Garde howl, Tom Waits played backwards with the pitch up, Scott Pellequin’s nervous breakdown, sentimental ballads from a casket, pots and pans clanging, sinus problems, broken plates on hardwood floors, french chantoozie cabaret-heat seeking jazz-sea chantey-core, underwater noise nostalgia, sentimental/surrealist nursery rhymes, crazed rants, dream sequences, sex-cat mating calls, paranoid vignettes, music written at gunpoint, heaven’s jukebox, and what you’ve been waiting for.