Whisky-soaked ritual blues smokin in a haze In an era of algorithm-fed mediocrity, The Jonny Halifax Invocation steps on stage like a ghost preacher with a bone to pick. What unfolded at The Underground in Bradford was an mini epic, a dense trance, a sermon a rewinding of time, I feel like by listeing to this I am watching the soundtrack to smoke, blood and tears that have been in the earth, and encrusted into the heart of this deep sound for a long, long time. A performance so rich, textured, and spiritually ragged it left the walls shaking with something older than rock and roll, and wiser than any streaming trend. This set was pure distilled soul — like listening to peated whisky blowing in on the wind , ancient and unmistakably potent. And yet, here we are: a world where something this outstanding sits quietly with just 452 views and little traction. That says more about the dullness of the mainstream musical palate than it does about the band. If today’s listene...
Lost and found audio gold, musical jewels and treasure. Soul extremes and borderless suprise.