Do you know the painting that you see on some greeting cards where all of the animals are sitting together, stoic and proud in the forest, and there in the background, rising in the sky, it’s the earth? You have to ask, “Why aren’t the animals trying to fight and eat each other? They are fucking enemies!” and “Why is the earth rising into the sky? If the earth is in the sky, then where are we?” That shit is Wax Mannequin… so important and mystical.
Wax Mannequin has been here for something like many centuries, but right now, he is the only knife-face. He is the fighter. He is roses out of his skin that bleed him as he pulls; he is burning candles welded to his scalp. But most important: he is music of the biggest fight style. It’s where you punch and slice your own dying stuff into fresh, ripe meats for selling and sharing. It’s where you give everything you had for an instant in his arms. Because Wax Mannequin can seriously change the way you feel inside.
Wax Mannequin’s music veers from scrappy prog oddness and distressed folk to absurdist stadium metal. He has appeared on thousands of pub, gallery and festival stages worldwide.