The legend of the elusive metaphysical artist known as Mouthe continues. Since surfacing, information about him has been scarce to say the least. Apparently the only person yet to meet him is the artist ‘El Huervo’ - he drew his portrait but doesn’t want to talk about it. He communicates solely via email to his two producers with next to indiscernible instructions and seldom pays them. While Mouthe is out riding the fame wave, his two self proclaimed nerd slaves are working in a tool shed with no AC, drinking leftover expired beer from indie label parties and getting left by their girlfriends for living on a prayer. Correct me if I’m wrong but isn’t this how music has always worked? Mouthe is milking it like a true sociopath. And why wouldn’t he? He’s climbing up his own ladder, way past the top of the industry, beyond even his own abilities. It’s honestly so supernaturally mind wobbling I don’t even know what the fuck is going on. Probably sober people shouldn’t even try to listen to it. Fuck man, I don’t get it even when I’m on shrooms and codeine. But who cares if you get it or not - it’s easily the most exhilarating stuff you’re ever going to hear.