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The Phantom Limbs : Episode 1: Night of the Living Surf
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The Limbs' first EP is an introduction into their frightening world: The Land O' Sea Hab. In this world are zombies, funk, funky zombies, beer and fist pumping gremmies. The music taste like surf wax and smells like the floor of Pepper's Tavern.
Genre: Rock: Surf Rock
Release Date: 2010
Episode 1: Night of the Living Surf
The Phantom Limbs
Record Label: The Phantom Limbs
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  • Download Album (MP3) - $5.00
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Preview Song Name Time Buy
1. Rabbit's Anonymous (Theme From) 3:57 + MP3 $1.00
2. Isabella 3:45 + MP3 $1.00
3. Cellar Door (The Two Most Beautiful Words) 4:09 + MP3 $1.00
4. Let's Go Surfing 4:26 + MP3 $1.00
5. Fat E and the Curse of the Phantom Limbs 3:22 + MP3 $1.00
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Album Notes

"The music biz around Ocean City and Baltimore is starting to catch wind of the Phantom Limbs, and their first EP should establish them as viable album-rock oriented artists." - Skip Dixxon, Ocean 98.1 Program Director.

"When writing the songs for Night of the Living Surf, my goal was take what I was getting from my favorite comic series, Kirkman's The Walking Dead, and my favorite movies, Deathproof and Evil Dead 2, and try to capture the way these writers use story telling, character development and over-the-top action and apply it to my own craft. I've always loved pulp horror, zombies, monsters and being creeped out in general. I also love surfing and beach rock. Night of Living Surf is a conglomerate of all those feelings and influences. It doesn't take itself too seriously, but it means business at the same time." - Ryan Abbott, Guitarist/Vocalist, The Phantom Limbs

Perhaps you wish to venture off your path, just for a little while. Relax, kind listener. Take our hand. Let us lead you. You will find that you have been here before. Visit those who have been lost. Taste your favorite food again, as if for the first time. Enjoy your wine. Relax. There is no tension. You are at the beach. You are at Mellow Beach, in fact, a small bay-side beach bar in Ocean City. It's 1997. Zion Reggae is playing "This Magic Moment" in the corner. The air is hot and sweet, but cool to your burned skin. You smell the suntan lotion on everybody. Nobody is wearing shoes, but they all wear there buzzes proudly. It's 11:45 pm, Wednesday night. You have nothing to do tomorrow except check the swells on 43rd street.
This feeling, this moment, is important, but at the same time it isn't.

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