THE COPTICS
Memphis R&B, Nordic Black Metal and Detroit Punk get washed up on a technicolor South Pacific Island after a peyote ritual in an Alabama roadhouse, so they climb a monochrome Futurist tower block that overlooks a dystopian Heironynmous Bosch nightmare, where they find The Coptics fucking leopard print B-Movie vixens and listening to Lee Hazlewood, while an old poet with a long beard sits in the corner reading voodoo incantations with a voice like a hard boiled detective, stroking a baby alligator who purrs like the noise of television fuzz with subliminal satanic messages
THE COPTICS
+
facebook.com/thecoptics
+
facebook.com/thecoptics
+
facebookcom/thecoptics
+
facebook.com/thecoptics
+
facebook.com/thecoptics
+
Facebook.com/thecoptics
+
facebook.com/thecoptics
+
facebook.com/thecoptics
+
facebook.com/thecoptics
+
facebook.com/thecoptics