Written in a bleak rehearsal space overlooking the downtown-LA skyline, The Continental Divide distills the simultaneous gloom and beauty of midnight skyscrapers, crumbling train yards, abandoned warehouses, and feral animals. Guitars stab, assault and shimmer; industrial effects and ambience co-mingle like lost strangers; unexpected bass lines and harmonies rumble propulsively; incessant drum rhythms pulse like LA's writhing freeways; and the always passionate vocals range from apocalyptic to triumphant to tauntingly seductive.