Look, all’s I know, is that if in three months from now I’m sitting in The Van watching House of Cards, Season 3, whilst Spud drives us down to Texas, and my stomach drops when I see the flash of blue lights glare through the cracks in the window blinds, I better not have to spend a night using a bologna sandwich as a pillow in a holding cell because the Wall of Fame on our interior has “Drug Cabin” scribed upon it.  Seriously, I already foresee how that one plays out, and I’m not interested.

I am however interested in everything else that Drug Cabin brings to the table.  Of course that mostly means their music, which is wonderful, and sounds as if it could have been composed in a “Drug Cabin.”  Hopefully that’s what they refer to as their practice space, which one will imagine is actually a “Drug Cabin.”  If that is the case, not only do they earn massive amounts of my respect, but a little bit of my faith in the world will return to me…