Jonathan Tyler sings on "Pardon Me," the lead single of the album of the same name, "You've got to let it turn you on," and it's right there, in that brief glimpse, that we are tapped into the veins, the blood and the sap of the Texas-bred songwriter. The Dallas boy, Tyler, takes us into the barren desert and the steamy plains, blindfolded and feeling like we're tripping on something, letting the mind expand, you know, and just seeing how off the tracks we can get. There's build-up, the mild escalation, the tempered buzz and then there's the release, the explosion, the orgasm that occurs when our senses are filled up, completely full.
We're not sure what the wolves focus on, or what they're attempting to get out of the act, when they gaze up at a chalk white moon, rest back on their hind legs, unhinge their jaws and begin bawling up at it, but it must be similar to what Tyler is focused on and feeling when he steps up to every microphone. He's singing, sure, but there's a forceful and emotive screaming that's going on as well - about those crazy games of the gypsy women, etc. It's not abrasive, just red-faced and powerful, as if the only thing that's going to clear the red out from his cheeks and calm him down a little is a hearty plug from the whiskey bottle or someone turning all the lights off. It would take some sort of disorienting, supernatural act to quell the pinings and the urgings that exist within the guts of this long-haired young man.