WOW. WOA?! WOW! That was my reaction listing to Creeper's amazingly original, inventive, and over-the-top sophomore album Sex, Death & The Infinite Void. Since then, I have been trying to figure out just how to describe this one. Then I read Kerrang!'s perfect review; "If the coquettish camp of The Rocky Horror Picture Show is your idea of a good time, or you’ve enjoyed the morbid-idiosyncrasies of a John Waters movie, the lovingly-crafted universe evoked by Sex, Death & The Infinite Void might just feel like home. Imbued with endless passion, colour and a carnival of glorious sound, it’s a musical marvel." A marvel indeed.
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What I love about music is its power to transport me. Sometimes it’s unexpected, sometimes it’s exactly where I want to be. A single melody can unlock memories I didn’t realize I still carried, while certain chords or lyrics take me to another time or place. Some songs feel like home, offering shelter, while others deliver me to an unknown place or space, stirring emotions I can’t quite name. In this way, music isn’t just sound—it’s a sonic subway, delivering me to a station of refuge or one I never knew existed.
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