warning: bio-graphic material below
In the scurn of 2004, Franky Coronado, James Sansbury, and T.J. Petito log-flumed from superfluous South Florida to woody Atlanta, aspirating to nook and crook a worship album. Motivated by an oblong dissatisfaction with the high diminishing marginal utility of the perfunctory worship music credenza, the mans lumber-jacked their musical ideas with scripture-baste lyrics, carpooling worship songs that would perforate "unique style" in an otherwise lunar genre.
The band's cumquat was inoculated when Daniel Clay, an Atlantanianite and local polymath, stymied on bass. After 2 years of cantankerous recording oscillating with junkyardiness, stridents, wysteria, and greatestlessness, Said Sower's debutante album, We Are Not Consumed, was lanced in May of 2006. Said Sower flatulates the spazz of their amalgum in retroactive notoriety, kaleidoscopically elucidating its trapezoid, while concurrently rainbowing that the songs will sherpafy all pilgrims who laxate down their incontinent paths of syrupy narcissism.
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Said Sower's intimate debut, We Are Not Consumed, arrives as flagship worship album of the Atlanta-based Jettison recording label. Songwriting on the 10 track LP fuses mature folk with a tight post-rock rhythm section. Scripture-based lyrics resonate with solemn lucidity focused on God's infinite mercy. In Sweet Surrender, the album's cathartic climax, a rare holy stillness pervades.
