Like many bands waltzing on this troubled earth, the tale of experimental rock outfit Dripping Trees once revolved around cheap thrills, escapism, and what the general populace would describe as ‘having a good time’. Some bands prefer to stay within this mirthful purgatory, running that treadmill until their old corporeal shells can no longer sustain their spry souls. But such a fate would not befall Dripping Trees. At one particular junction, the Dutch quartet found themselves unplugged from the foggy romanticism that seems so synonymous with the term ‘rock ‘n’ roll’. Though the tools of choice remain largely the same, Dripping Trees opt for an immersive sound that explores skulking, slow-burning dynamics, ghoulish gospel and rustic cob-webbed grandeur. After much experimentation, it became a band at odds with its own dramatic tendencies, deliberately suspending disbelief like a bad reality show.