I don’t remember where I was or what I was doing. In my imagination it was behind the wheel of a blue ’69 Mustang with windows rolled down and a stereo so loud you couldn’t hear the wind. Dust is flying from behind the wheels and I’m flying at twice the speed limit as “Amphetamine” pushes the speakers to their limit. My hair whips against the front of my sunglasses and the vibrations in my throat tells me I’m singing along, “na na, na na, yeah, na na, na na, yeah.” It’s Saturday, the sun is setting, I have a place to be and I don’t care what time I get there or if I arrive at all. Life doesn’t get any better.

That is how I picture hearing Static Transmission for the first time. It starts in reflective themes and dreamy sequences of “What Comes After” and as CD…