From the zombie doo wop of Johnnie Regalado:
Gravez begins and ends like the transition from restless leg syndrome to rapid eye movement. It’s an album of dreamy existence where intertwining harmonies line the sides of an audio highway deep into a land where wastelands are prime real estate and zombies play doo wop at the homecoming dance. The ghastly afterlife vocals march you along like the piper, calling you deeper into the canals of your own ears. The guitars rattle back and forth like a creepy yet comforting barbershop quartet. Once you’ve entered their grave you won’t want to come out.