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Toronto’s Red Ants are a duo reminding you that hope is fleeting, especially with that chip in your head, the new ball and chain. Leaving the happiness of bling and bitches under rubble and ash, the leftfield raps of Modulok trudge through Vincent Price’s post-apocalyptic beatscapes. A haze glazes the sky care of demolished-building dust and burning-tire smoke heavy with omens that it’s just the beginning. Best to tune into Red Ant radio, which’ll quell your rage, chanting, “Empires like these were born to fall.”
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