“Once again I slouch to heavily percussive metal as a treatment —
But this is something special, melodic and full of wondrous racket, yet spacious —
I kept meaning to check them out, am always slow to catch on, oh well, better late than &c. —
“Mistress,” I said, “I need some grub.”
The old woman raised the dripping whites of her half-blind eyes and lowered them again.
“Comrade,” she said after a short silence. “All of this makes me want to hang myself.”
— Isaac Babel, 'My First Goose'”