Torridly tangible banjo and Dan Miller's twisted twang juxtaposed with ethereal female backing vocals and a possessed pedal steel combine to mold one soporific provocation – like watching a classic horror film before bed. Your whole body's asleep, but there's no way you're closing your eyes. Blanche crafts some of the most impressive music coming out of the state, escapist narratives flowing in and out of cirrostratus clouds – atmospheric wisps with a touch of turbulence just to make sure you're paying attention.
