Blight

Sheets of wailing feedback wash over the proceedings unexpectedly mid-song. With the incessant, clanging industrial thud of Lansing as a soundtrack to their existence, the group was bound to sound industrial. Literally. Blight sounds like machinery set in motion. And appropriately, all the parts worked together in unison, a single unit moving forward. Punctuated only by the aforementioned wash of pure noise, or the electrified tones of Tesco's trumpet, the band was propelled by a single-minded purpose.