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‘The Finest Times’ by  Vincent Christ He doesn’t need to convince us, he already has. Vincent Christ, or ‘VC’ as the aether whispers in the dimly lit back alleys of the underground scene, has detonated another sound bomb in the cultural consciousness . ‘The Finest Times’ is an auditory hallucination, a trip down the rabbit hole with a post-punk soundtrack , where every hook is a claw tearing at the fabric of reality, every jangle a siren call to the decadent depths of our souls, and every word a gut punch straight from the fevered brow of a mad poet. VC is on a kamikaze mission for the perfect sound . He’s casting spells, conjuring a hypnotic brew as organic as the primal rhythms pulsating through our very being. With a rebel yell and a sly wink, he strums the strings with a touch that’s both icy and burning, a paradox in every note. The crowd can’t help but be drawn in, their feet tapping to the rhythm of a world that’s constantly spinning just out of reach. And just when they think