Disregard the inane bullshit she jokes about at the start of this song (and unfortunately there are several bouts of inane banter across all of A Radical Recital delivered with varying degrees of awkward nervousness) and pay attention instead to how bizarrely sexy this song is.

I am lacking the words today. I had something introspective thought out but then the second I started typing it all exited my brain like so many wisps of smoke dissipating into the air, never to be seen again. Right now my innermost thoughts are merging with the atmosphere, blocking UV rays.

I don't remember how I originally discovered Rasputina. I'm sure I was travelling around recommended gothy music and just happened to land myself on Transylvanian Concubine, 'cause that's their most popular song. From there I never really got into them, as there is just something a little too weird about a lot of their stuff, but I really dig A Radical Recital. It's a very lively live album, complete with a really bitching cover of Barracuda (come on, Barracuda performed by two distorted cellos, what could be cooler?) and a live version of High on Life that closes the set that really kicks my ass.