Therapy Sessions imprint is back with 'Broadmoor Blues EP' by Robyn Chaos & Fortitude

Imagine yourself taken from the ones you love, stolen away from the life you know to be dragged into a world of mental manipulation and mind fuckery. What if they try and convince you you're insane? And you're so disassociated you don't even know if they're right?

Broadmoor Blues takes us on a voyeuristic journey back to a time when the life of the rebellious underdog could be so easily crushed under the mainstream idea of what was a 'normal' way to think and feel. Back to a time when the cages and trappings of society were literal and you could be locked up for even daring to question the status quo. The struggle of the outsider. It treads carefully along the lines of social stability to weave a tale of someone drowning in a world of dominance and corruption. The same corruption that still dehumanises us all to this day. The eternal evil that makes you doubt yourself and your own sanity. The cages are more insidious and psychological now but the stigma is just as real.

Our song begins with a melancholic ode to inner struggle as disjointed voices ripple over the understated acoustic guitar riff, a glimpse into an already fractured psyche, someone very much on the edge.. It's the sound of uncomfortably warm summer evenings watching the world flicker and glitch through a tapestry of reinforced glass and iron bars... So close to collapsing under the weight of the monster it has created... and you feel powerless to stop it. A looping vocal mantra of self affirmation drags us into the drop as all walls come crashing down and the birth scream of inner realisation stands up to be heard. A tearing bassline soars over pounding, primal drum patterns and subtle vocal snippets keep the raw, exposed soul of the story at the forefront of your mind.

The original, with vocals courtesy of Robyn Chaos & guitar by Fortitude splinters further into three more disturbing wards twisting the story into parallel, but very different, realms.

Counterstrike manage to harness all the anger and vengeance for some straight up, aggressive, dancefloor shaking destruction. Punchy drums and a crazy lead line stomp along determinedly whilst choice cuts of the vocal pierce through the distortion.

The Sect use little melodic flourishes to emphasise the fragility of the vocal which creates an emotive orchestral intro to ease you into the insane bass line as it screams away over a driving tech workout.

And lastly, but definitely not least, Peter Kurten brings a cacophony of schizophrenic beat slicing and searing, sub heavy reese lines for a journey deeper into the rabbit hole, hurtling you down the corridor back and forth between the call and response interplay of various squeals and moans.
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