I had brain surgery a few years ago where I was required to be fully conscious while they drilled a hole the size of a quarter into my head. It was the loudest thing I'd ever heard — if you don't count seeing sludge metal duo of doom Jucifer, which I've done about half a dozen times. Onstage, it looks like a going out of business sale with amps literally stacked to the ceiling. Guitarist Amber Valentine sings a little, but all I ever remember deciphering was "Thank you, good night." This is what it sounds like when doves die.