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Amidst the beautiful scenery of green hills and shimmering ocean that Byron Bay is well and truly known for, lurks a dark and seedy side. And it rehearses in a run down old garage, paint chipped and faded, walls leaning, roof rusting. An indistinguishable sign hangs above its buckled roller door. Car parts, engines & tools are strewn across its greasy black floor. Way down the back past a pile of empty beer bottles & cigar butts, behind a 1946 pick up, you can hear a rumbling noise, a growling rhythm that starts to climb the walls and shake every loose car part, every rusty nut n bolt that holds this 'piece of shit' shed together. It is soon joined by & fused with a pounding beat that shakes portions of the roof loose. With in moments, a screaming voice starts to rapidly bark out a melody & the whole thing unfurls into a heaving tornado of Hellbilly rock. But thats enough of the flowery narrative bullshit.... here are the facts. The Villain's sonic brut-force will sodomize any ear