About CRAPPY NIGHTMAREVILLE
Its sound has been frequently likened to a preposterous fog of leeches by specialists in localized aberrations of the vibrating air. Some later complained of bedevilment under the survey of sinister frisbees. Shadowed at every corner by bureau specters fingering their directional microphones, erecting fearsome radial arrays to poison the stars, while we fashion neon musics to soothe the horror of those inadvertently sealed within the hulls of seafaring vessels. One drink to the pearly foam and to Davy Jones your bones, where terrible coils trawl the ink 'neath snowy disphotic zones. Are you receiving? The name Crappy Nightmareville was originally suggested as a corrective in the misnomeric case of the twilit Lake Dreamland, a former 1950s summer resort for stirred-up Louisvillians. An early regional venue for the rock 'n' roll music, the lakeside Club El Rancho was overrun in the 60s by a network of leathered motorbike enthusiasts and burned. During the 1970s, occasional sightings of epigrammatic grafitti in the manner of "Lake Dreamland–A Suitable Place To Sink The Corpse" seemed indicative of the local tone. The truth is, this brief history is unlikely ever to molest the eye of any Lake Dreamland citizen as those found out harboring a cipherin' crate are hanged for intractable occult leanings. Crappy Nightmareville’s initial manifestation occurred in October of '93 under the observation of its current curators, P. Andrew Willis and Mike French, in a vacant fur storage vault beneath 3rd Street at Oak in Old Louisville. It was here that defective tape shielding resulted in the leaking of incantatory phonemes from a report filed by HRH, culminating in the activation of the first sleeping mind-reel. We sealed this tape inside a rotten coconut and tossed it in the river. If you find this coconut, do not open it. It has been inscribed with a curse. In case no one has ever told you, you should not go around opening coconuts with writi...