Curse Toast was birthed into the global music delivery room at that unique intersection in time where future legends were calling it quits (Pixies, Jellyfish), and future powerhouses were poised to take over the world (Backstreet Boys, Wu-Tang Clan, Joey Lawrence). Yes, it was 1993, a year in which President Clinton replaced George Bush in the White House, the Bosnian War led to the Fall of Srebrenica, and Lisa Bonet filed for divorce from Lenny Kravitz.

Curse Toast’s first release, an eponymous album, which, by definition, was called "Curse Toast,” rocketed onto the scene in a 3 square block section of Venice Beach. It was immediately hailed by four of the seven friends who heard it as "good" and "pretty good." Their sophomore effort, the 1995 album dubbed "Two Words," contained many hit songs, including the first one and the third one on side two.

But then came 1997, and Curse Toast’s third release, the legendary “Silver Spork,” prompted Review Addict to proclaim, "A tour de force through some of the weirder veins in rock…film clips of life flashing by in the video to the song, silent, morose faces and childhood sprinkler days of summer, everything going by in thought..."

In other words, it kicked ass.

Riding the wave of success the band generated with epic staples “Spot” and “Immodest,” the Toast eagerly planned the next project and anxiously cleared space in their schedules to write and record an album that would live in infamy.

And now here it is – a mere 132 months later – the powerful and unabashedly bold product of their creative loins: The Greenroom.

In a studio in West Sacramento with the aroma of fresh-baked peach passionfruit scones wafting through the control room and the incessant pounding of spring rain wreaking havoc with the recording equipment, Chris Farrell and Anthony Mondello have tickled the id of under-über-underground music fans everywhere with this latest release.

With expected themes ranging from plane crashes to evil neighbors to spicy peppers, widely-accepted cultural statements such as atheist holiday cards, religious smut, and Dr. Phil fans, and the pièce de résistance that effectively ties it all together: axe murder, a more accessible album would be difficult to find.

Clever. Creative. Clandestine.