Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Mike Gentry
The symptoms make it sound like it could be any number of things. There are the heavy palpitations. There's the feeling that the room is on fire and heading outdoors isn't going to bring any kind of a break. There's that constrictive sensation. There's a shortness of breath and there are different degrees of hair loss. There are wounds that just won't close. There's the tightened chest and there are involuntary exhalations. There's the squall. There are the blood-shot eyes and the clothing that's been slept in for days and days.
It could be anything bringing all of this on, but it doesn't take a medical degree to get down to brass tacks about what's really going on. These are the symptoms of a man who's been bedeviled by love. He's been zapped and run down to the very brink of his life - hanging on by a thread - before being recharged by it all and thrown right back into the clouds. There's a chain around his ankle though that can be used to pull him back and there's no bolt cutter that could ever free him from it. He's at the mercy of whomever's tugging at him - whomever wants him closer or wants him tossed out with the garbage.
Reignwolf songs are straight-forward explorations of what it means to be beholden and baffled by that second nature impulse of attraction. They are base and very raw field reports of sentiments regarding that quivering, fine line between living in paradise and being hit with the news that you're terminally ill, while you were just getting comfortable in paradise.
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