Who Sold My Generation

Through all the echo chambers, broken sound barriers and miscarried choruses, the sons and daughters of the sold generation wash onto the shore intact. The Lost and Found. The lost metaphors of a choking, spitting news anchor send our fallen victories to dead ends. The last of the pioneers, slowly distilling down to a neat poison ready to sell at your local trade store. To sell, or be sold can be defined as a transfer of property or the exclusive right of possession to another for an equivalent in money. But who's to say you can't sell your only real value, the soul. We can stare at the throne while kneeling in our own feces, while the fool plays on. the rotten fruit hangs low and we choose to take a taste. One can also sell themselves for the right cost. However it is all about the sell. To betray; to deliver or surrender for money or reward; as, to sell one''s country. 'Buy the truth and sell it not', as they once said. the sexual proliferation of a good deal gone bad delivers us to and from the womb. We're all begging for a taste. The whole. The untouched. The cop on the side of the street, covered in the blood of a young blood. Pharoah weeping over the locust infected fields. The humble prostitute staring down the barrel. In the simplest form, we are the organism arising from sexual generation, a party of germs and lust. Let me play on, like the fool does. Let the fields burn, the apparition lurk and the tower fall. The hands are dealt and the king is dead.

Seattle garage trio Night Beats make their Heavenly Records debut with their brazen third LP, Who Sold My Generation.

Seattle's Night Beats are vintage through and through. Their last album, 2013's Sonic Bloom, generated keen interest from psych and R&B fans...

Texan trio Night Beats are one of the most exciting bands to come out of America since the heady days of grunge. Their brand of 13th Floor Elevator-esque