Muffled Sevendust-ish death-droning announces goth diva Tina Root's slinky entrance. Her veil parts, the mike floats to her astonishing lips, and she channels Layne Staley's personal Shiva, belly-dancing her way over via implicit promises to spike-heel your heart into turkeyburger. Spears hover over jugulars to the accompaniment of an orchestral thunderstorm.
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