THINGS could have turned out very differently for these guys if their volatile frontman Connor Alexander hadn’t blown their best chance for a record deal last year. The road to their demise is traced in Doug Johnstone’s new novel, The Ossians.
In fact, the band owe their entire fabricated existence to Johnstone, also a musician, who has breathed musical life into his fiction creation with this mini-album, purportedly their demos and session material.
The recordings are as rough as a red wine hangover and Alexander has an on-off relationship with pitch, but there are moments such as the hypnotic organ swirl of The Haar when you would wish The Ossians into existence.
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