Wax the boards, Everybody Lets Go Surfing, Surfing US-DECAY. On the crest of a sea of plastics, discarded textiles. Built to replace and ready to feed the ever-reaching loving chubby sweaty dirty fingernailed hands of many a landfill. Discard, Destroy and Forget and repurchase. Articles of Waste Forget Faith! Bondi spits shards of coloured sea glass upon canvas recreating, rebirthing, reimagining, restructuring and regurgitating objects of forgotten lore giving us recycled hope that there is a possibility of reinventing. Redshift doesn't ride the rolling waves but chooses the dumping waves breeding the storm of unpredictability only achieved for experienced Statesmen Off the chain like your old old unpredictable hand-me-down bike that would derail at any ill opportune moment in time. Descending hills devoid of braking capabilities, cascading down blurred black asphalt ready to suck in gravel road rash through soon to opened gaping wounds. Mother always told you to wear your helmet or was that before the time when common sense and safety precautions were only deemed a necessary evil only after multiple excursions and mishaps? Scraped knees and elbows are for wimps, real men got skin grafts or lived with gravel embedded in their gluteus maximus for life. Lifers they say. Now they could actually state with no uncertainty that I am hard as a rock.
Take a little rumble with the King of Punk - Mr. Link Wray with his Premier Model 71 amp adorned with punched-out speakers combining a rusty face melting out of control on a downward spiral hardcore backbeat. Alas, Redshift has arrived on your sand dune with surfboards planted like tombstones.
