RIP Cursed

Bad news from Canada’s Cursed. Say it ain’t so, Joe.

Yeah, you heard. Apparently, it gets even worse. That’s all I know or even want to know for now. We got robbed at the very end of tour in a totally unreal, extremely sketchy series of events that still makes no sense at all, only leads to paranoia, anger and a total loss of faith. Passports, money, all the costs of the tour. Either way, whoever did it, it was a bullet in the head, the end of the line. A sudden and totally fucked up way for it to end, which I know will be fitting when I look back on it. All we could do was play the show, badly, and go our ways with whatever money we could muster. I hitched a ride back to Prague with Tomas. Since I can’t do a fucking thing about it, I’m going to hang out with my girl, and friends, stare at some Czech mountains and try not to think about it. Needless to say, all outstanding plans are off. All this shit aside, thanks to everyone that helped out and travelled from all over for the shows on this tour, all the kids and bands we played and stayed with. Minus a few fucked up shows, it was probably the best tour we ever had. Thanks everyone for your good wishes. I’ll elaborate when I’m home next week, for now – yes it’s true, and yes it’s over.

Heartbreaking to hear from a band that meant what they said, whose sound roared their name. III: Architects of Troubled Sleep (Goodfellow, 2008) was that rare record I was afraid to review. Words couldn’t do it justice. How do you review storm clouds and dirt clods? Part me of wants Cursed to live on. The other part wants them to honor their own words in “Antihero Resuscitator”: “All my antiheroes are dead, gone to far-off beds / And I got orders ? Do Not Resuscitate / Leave them in the ground, we?ve got our own frustrations.” May you find the peace you never had.

Antihero Resuscitator

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