By E.H. Stockton
Standing in the thirtieth row of a partially filled MTS centre, dressed to the nines (or at least the sixes), on a narcotic propelled rocket hurtling my mind through some forgotten corridor of the cosmos is when I was first introduced to Susto. It was as though my experience was tethered to an otherworldly elastic that, at the moment of its choice, pulled me back down to earth and into my mortal self while the chorus of Susto’s Waves roared through the arena. The lights danced in unison as though they themselves were drowning waves. “It comes in waves” sang frontman Justin Osborne, reminding a select few of every time they ever felt the ‘waves’ come on at the outset of what will surely be a good trip. Continue reading “Susto: & I’m Fine Today”