Fellatio

From Bissau to Palau, in the shades of Avalon – Fellatio’s crash course to infamy has so far been resplendently rotten.

Imagine Surfside Sex taking place in Lord of the Flies, or Suicide and The Fall jamming together in a rabid, ghost pepper-induced delirium, and it would approximate the debauched self-coined “Post Avant-Garde Krautpop Disco Punk” concoction this Dutch trio conjure together.

Their jagged, propulsive sound manifested out of sheer accidental brilliance. Fuzzed out, feverish, and decisively droney. Fellatio became a lightning-quick word-of-mouth live sensation, spreading like a blight from Rotterdams stirring underground scene to the
great beyond.

Indeed, Fellatio’s pilgrimage has only just begun.