The sun was setting on the day, and as it did it painted the sky with a set of hues that matched the red rock sandstone upon which two pairs of spurred boots tread. With keen eyes and hands readied at their holsters, two desert roughened faces stared into the maw of the cliffside grotto that lay before them, steeling themselves for the deed that had brought them to this wild place. As they stood outside, their parched lips gave rise to gruff conversation in the last rays of the setting sun.

“Hey Sonny Jim…:

“Yeah Scruggs?”

“Let’s make this quick. Cattle won’t take too kindly to us bein’ gone ‘round nightfall, what with the kay-otes and all.”

With the assent of an “mmm hmm” from Sonny Jim, the pair burst into the grotto by the light of the moon’s first rays, assured in the knowledge that their plantoid quarry would be weaker under its reflective gaze. As moonlight fell upon the twisted forms in the cavern, the pair drew a pair of six shooters each, loaded with the selfsame rounds that they used to fell every other varmint in this wild land. In practiced tandem, the pair worked their way through the tendrils of the lesser vining monstrosities in the cavern, the muzzle flash of their six shooters illuminating the spurts of sappy ichor that erupted from the monster’s crumpling forms. In little time they stood before that self same massive varmint that had chased them from this land five months before, which loomed at the grotto’s center as the largest tree either had ever seen. It’s branches bore spined vines and oaken boughs alike, and from its barked seeped an acrid sap that sizzled as it fell upon the ground below. For this the pair had prepared as each drew a third revolver from his coat, loaded with bullets imbued with a poison made from the very land. Each unloaded all six shots with naught but a single word, and from the great plantoid behemoth a groaning, shuttering cry could be heard. The great beast withered, shrinking as it died, as did all of the lesser beings that had stood connected at its side. With collected pride Scruggs and Sonny Jim each blew from their weapons the smoky remnants of flame, knowing that through their prowess the ROOTS OF EVIL had been slain.

BURR OAK continue their ride as they lead the EATBRAIN horde further into neurofunk’s wild west with their ROOTS OF EVIL EP, the follow up to their previous release on EATBRAIN, February’s “Hawkeye” EP. Further exploring and growing upon the roots of their collaborative effort, The Clamps and Opsen once again team up as BURR OAK to deliver four tracks composed in their signature lawless style for EATBRAIN’s latest release.