But they're not what this post is about, no. This post is about that shadowy figure who hates me. His new victim:

Based again in Oxford, although I can only guess, Blackholes were a phoenix of Crackout started in 2006. Not to be confused with the Milwaukee 80s punk band by the same name. I found them through MySpace and ordered their homebrew demo The Alcohol EP. I received it within a couple of days in a lovely pressed cardboard sleeve with a signed flyer on the inside. The disc itself was home-burned, and written all over by the band. It made me very happy, and it featured four great songs. I was eagerly expecting great things from these guys. Alas...
Aside from the demo version of Service With a Sigh, I think I've collected Blackholes' incredible six-song discography that was available on their MySpace. Incidentally, if anyone still has the original download of that track, please let me know and I'll love you eternally.
How do things become obscure? I have now experienced it first-hand. It seems to me that if my arch nemesis can play dirty, crossing out a band that's barely begun, it's so easy for these things to sink into the lost depths of time. Already the only public connection to this band is their MySpace page, and soon enough there won't be a trace of them left. I feel a profound duty to preserve and guard my copy of The Alcohol EP with my life.