Tennisist: Do Not Mention Tennisist

I heard a rumour that the band Tennis specify, in no uncertain terms, to promoters who are booking them that there should be no mention whatsoever of the sport of Tennis whilst promoting the band Tennis.

While you let that nugget of true meta-post-bizarro-irony ping around your brain like sodium in a beaker of water, consider this: now that the bar has been set so high, what similar Tennis-related demands will Tennisist make?

Perhaps he could flip the status quo and demand that all physical releases come packaged in giant tennis balls, or that the entire advertising budget is spent persuading Andy Murray to have the album art tattooed onto his stomach.

Who knows the limits in the zany world of Tennis-themed band names?

Most importantly perhaps/of course is the fact that, in Inner Desert, Tennisist fuses together foggy, drawn-out droning noise shimmers with tumbling drumbeats, out-of-control tightened acid blips and groaning vocals.

The noise is enveloping, and long, and intense.

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