It’s the mark of a truly seminal artist that, even thirty years after his death, you discover something new with every new vault-scraping from the archives.
A fly white girl from NYC via Pennsylvania throws down an Estro-Beastie-Indie concept album (almost). CEO takes a spin on the typical “I gots money, bee-yatch.”
Trona delivers a solid release filled with everything from driving guitar rock and cow-punk to power ballads all conferred with confidence and potency.