Singing in voices that could be described as
Satan after the cable TV gets cut off and Ozzy after realizing he's not on cable TV anymore, Type
O offer all types of slow, crushing anthemic tunes that deal with things that are never too happy. Something tells me you could feed these guys Prozac and they still wouldn'
t have a brighter day. They'd complain about sunburn.
Music for bats, for sure.
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Some guys have all the luck--just that it's all
bad. In the glass half-empty or half-full dilemma, the fellas in Type
O are the type to simply break the glass and say it wasn't worth keeping anyway. The kind of guys high-
school guidance counselors look over at and figure if they can just send them over to Vo-Tech without too much hassle (in other words, without them killing anyone), then great! Another successful guided tour out of high
school.