Teen Fly

We've all been there. Pimply, nervous and young. Standing in the shadows, writhing in our own skins. Not knowing why you went to the school dance, but showed up anyway. Maybe it's just mating desires and a strong drive for rotting organic materials that incited you - who knows ?  And Teen Fly is no exception. Witness our friend adrift in the post maggot / adolescent arena - desperately searching for connection. Awash in sheets of sound. Synthesizers and drum machines woven through the cheap perfume. Head buzzing. Lights flashing in his compound eyes. Ready for anything . . . . kinda -