Hola, welcome to being completely fucked. It has always been a hard sell to convince record label suit types to invest in music that celebrates the kind of lifestyle that threatens their very day-jobs and status of importance in this material world. Since Kurt Cobain blew his brains out high on dope years back, it sure seems that they have vowed to never make this mistake again and if you read any popular music magazine or website you'll see that they have been widely successful. Call it how you see it, it’s a load of crap. Not only are bands that hold guitars a vintage idea but anything that doesn't pander to Iphone sales in some way is banished to the back of the bus with the other delinquents. That is unless you were born a rich, rock star to begin with. Not the case here. The Icarus Line, whoever they are at the moment, have realized the back of the bus is the best place to party. These hellions, have been touring/recording/hiding/again and again since 1998. The band came from various middle class to low income areas of Los Angeles. They started as a high school punk group and eventually a world wide act despite little to no financial support from formal institutions. Even while signed to semi major V2 the band resorted to living with friends and in deplorable hotels in the worst parts of Hollywood, scumbags. It's hard to care about making a decent living when you don't even know where you are going to be living. For over Ten years the band has shown its face in various forms, made critically acclaimed records, toured the world and then seemingly vanished for years on end. The reintroduction… The new record WILDLIFE was written by Joe Cardamone during a period of 2 years. Joe had moved out of slums of Hollywood back to his home town Highland Park in East LA. The change of scenery was prompted to get away from everything that living in Hollywood brings. Desperation, Drugs and Record Industry scum. Drummer Jeff Watson was driving a Taxi in Portland Oregon at the time so he was flown to LA to complete the group before the sessions. Alvin was around town trying to keep busy while waiting for the man and Jason was working hard supporting his new baby girl. When the band got together for ten days to crash through the 30 odd tunes that Joe had scribbled on bits of paper no one had really heard much of the material. They had about 15 days to get an albums worth of material together. Packed into a two car garage that had been repurposed as a sound proof studio they went at it with very little time for communication. From the day Jeff landed until the night before the recording session Wildlife was born. About 20 songs were recorded at the initial sessions at Sunset Sound in room 3. The same room that Prince turned into his apartment to make Purple Rain. The remainder of the tracking and mixing took place in Joe's home studio allot of which were under no professionals supervision. What does this knob do? Do? Do? Do! Relying on instinct and some gathered knowledge he put together a record on gear he barely knew how to use but with a newfound enthusiasm for learning to use it. The result is almost like a debut release, uncharted territory for the band that had always used the studio as an instrument to fully express their intent. Wildlife was learning to play piano and tuning up a car at the same time. This wasn't out of choice completely but more of necessity. It had to be done. Wildlife presents the newest chapter in a bizarre saga of sonic ambition and utterly stubborn will. A rock n roll nuke followed by a couple months of radiated fallout. This record did not just make itself and get into your hands by accident today, it was written, produced and record under the constant threat of extinction. As we all know the bills keep coming long after the money is gone. Another document from a distant corner of Los Angeles that believes in Rock N Roll music as art and religion. This collection of songs finer than the last and those before that. The Icarus Line may never get to make a record again and so every record has been made as if it's the very last one. That's how this music is supposed to feel though isn't it? Like a fight to survive in a musical landscape dominated by frat boys in ships clothing. If you love Iggy, If you miss Roxy Music, if you feel Funkadelic, if you need a flash of danger in your life, if you want a little lust around, if you love Rock N Roll music that is actually made by motivated fuck ups who had no other choice, then this is for you. Bon Appetite.