The Mysterious Mihalyistic Entities

The Mysterious Mihalyistic Entities

The JEM Series continued at Press Vinyl Café with the arrival of a new band onto the scene called Mihalylistic Entities.  On this dry winter night four flunky granola bars walked into the depths of sound eating snap pea snacks and talking about trash pandas. These are tonight’s players and they brought along distressed vibrations from the metaphysical plains of Abraham or was that Abrasalami? These cold cut cats slithered into to their Venetian souls and long skirts to play their version of Cacophony Soul.

I didn’t know where they were going, as they tried to bury us in the blues, or it could have been the reds or even the greens. Just choose a colour because this matrix was complicated and it wailed like a Queen Witch that both seeped and creeped you out, in your unprotected molecular state.

The bassist with his mental cases held you down as his gravitational shift kept your epileptic secrets open like a jar of honey and let it slowly roll out onto the hot tarmac for all to witness. There was no funk with his junk as his precise fingering needled you into a submissive state of nuclear independence. There was a perverse joy as he glanced at the other tormentors, knowing he held the bottom of his weaponized ostrich-infused oscillation. This guy was simply cookoo…

More damage was being done by the asteroid riding drummer who filled the void of space with his pounding influence of an alien invasion. The inner sanctum was attacked from both within and without quarter, or any other change for that matter. His drag racing style was hairy and his cymbal work was balding with no conditioner in sight. It was like having you in a headlock without the use of a strong deodorant.  If I had to boil this egg down to one concept, I would say if this pound of meat was Mike Tyson, you would walk away with some hearing damage.

Like Mighty Mouse, the guitarist was the only one here to save the day. His gibberish and jabbering soon formed a weave that would make Donald Trump jealous. He slowly built a better mouse trap to ensnare your curiosity to the point where you would lean in too close and have your face melted like goat cheese on an arid summer day. No pool in sight.  Yes he did fret, boy did he fret, but it was the watcher that was paying the price for his stress relieving shiatsu massage. The pleasure and pain was wracked upon your face as you tried to keep up with the multitude of Jones running through your veins.

Once inside the Cirrus Minor of pandemonium there beholds the lamentation of an apocalyptic general who holds no sway to any sane being. The rantings of this maniacal banana will have you questioning the deviant inquisitions about your own personal weather forecast , like will I be sunny tomorrow with a chance of attending the crypto-conference? If you have to ask that of yourself, then you need to dig deeper as the illustrated singer uses his sonic beam to beat you into a more submissive state. Just stare into his abysmal afterimage and walk the parking lot less travelled. Find moments of greatness within the slippery elm of cantankerous knowledge and the feeding frenzy of your own piranha pool.

This band will challenge you with their Logos of idealism, and send you spelunking in the Caves of your recessed soul. This will be the beginning of your meek climb in a sense of reality that only Stalactites and Stalagmites can whispers to you, in a voice of reason and obliteration. Their message could be that of being still as you witness the Aurora Borealis through a magnifying glass as you burn ants that walk across your burning skin.

The name of the band is Mihalyistic Entities and this is their story.

Here are some images of Mihalyistic Entities:

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