Bear In Heaven, well I just don’t know. That’s my response. That’s the only response you could possibly give to such a mind-numbing and/or mind-blowing experience right? I remember thinking the same thing when I was praying to the porcelain goddess after listening to My Bloody Valentine late at night when I was already nauseous but oddly sober at age 17 (true story fucktards) – I just couldn’t handle music this grandiose and visionary (and certainly not so anti-melody) . This sort of swirling psychedelic musak could only be the product of some awfully good and golden acid flashback, I mumbled to myself—while I oddly thought, why am I mumbling to myself and if I am, why the lack of quotations? The fact that I scorn proper English and grammar be damned, I furthered, Holden Caulfield style. “Beast Rest Forth Mouth” may not make a lick of sense but it’s a filled to the brim with possibly some of the best music that the indie pop world has to offer at this very time in the fabric of time and space. Urgent synths dodge rocking rhythms and barely sub-conscious lyrical twists sung by someone who believes that cohesiveness is a religion that ought to perhaps be studied, but definitely by someone else, and certainly never adored. Citing a skull-fuckery this side of our gracious greats of My Bloody Valentine meeting an ambient sub-species like Brian Eno’s influenced no-names for coffee and a joint. Taking your snaps of snapshots while you still can, you know before the who’s who of indie rock journalism finally wakes up and smells the wormwood-soaked musical genius that is Bear in Heaven – you just can’t like this band unless they are this obscure and hidden from the trolls.