Lurking somewhere in the Finnish void, a coven is emitting waves of thick fuzz. The pattern simple yet effective. A witch commands the ceremony in a high register. The pace slow and cyclic. The trance coils around the mind’s eye as a guitar snakes and her male counterpart enters with the same determined call. Deeper. Over and over. The rite returns to the beginning, cranked up loud to hammer the point home. Then the last note holds, fades and metamorphoses into a lonely organ. The void consuming all. Flipping over, “Apocalypse Blues” crawls along with swamp-like clarity. The bass throbbing through the reverb. Again, vocals soar in pitch, somehow hovering at a great distance from the rumbling bottom end. The slow groove and tone pleasing. Unearthing a spacious cavern, the path dips cautiously. Gently. In a roundabout manner. The air haunted. Peaceful. Bewitching. It feels like home. A delightful little relic cut in small circular vinyl.