*** Black Time hails from London, England. They are skinny, black- clad boys and girls with bad attitudes and a desire to make intrusive, obnoxious rock’n’roll music. Their debut, Blackout, was recorded, mixed and mastered entirely in analog and pressed on heavy-weight virgin vinyl in a limited edition of several hundred. Immediately heralded by hipsters in the know as the latest, greatest rock’n’roll band that matters, the album quickly soldout, becoming fodder for collector scum the world over. Black Time play out very rarely and when they do it’s quite an event. The select few who have been initiated into this cult of sound have reported a loss of speech, hair and bowel control after witnessing a performance. The band plans to bring their act stateside in 2005, to the Deep South in particular, with a revue featuring leather biker-boys, wall-projected homemade slasher films, whip-cracking tiger-girls and well-respected media professionals eating their own shit live on stage. This is the heavy vampire sound. The sound of the undead stumbling through the twilight, feeding off broken, youthful dreams, unable to stop their endless march or neutered howling. Black Time stands between us and the things which soothe but do not heal — the magnet-pull of American rock’n’roll records, cheap tobacco, tea, beer, movies and radio — the things George warned us about.