HNY - Mute In The Dust

Dudes can dispute it, but the feminine mystique is real -¢?? especially in the realms of haunted interior-psych voice musique. A lotta our favorite ladies (Inca Ore, Grouper, U.S. Girls, etc) have the -¢??private dreamer-¢?¬ù communion ritual down to a science, whether due to talent, vision, chromosomes or some combo of the 3. We wanna add another siren to the squad: HNY. When not buried in work as the sax/bass-playing half of Social Junk, shes found time to drop a couple stellar solo joints over the past year-ish (scope her Here You Can Touch The Sky for proof), but they may have gotten more lost in the shuffle than seems fair, so were jazzed to present Heathers newest full-length collection of woozy diary drift, Mute In The Dust. Nine song-stories of naked keyboards, 3 AM spirit loops, and creaky attic narratives that blur the line between bedroom voodoo ceremony and otherworldly suicide note. Recorded entirely outdoors on a tiny side porch in West Oakland, Mute tip-toes the HNY mythos out of the shadows and off the deep end. Dive in. Pro-dubbed tapes in white cases with hallucinatory guitar-girl cover art (3 different color paper possibilities), and housed in hand-painted canvas pouches. Edition of 100. -Not Not Fun