Tearing through the speakers like a swamp monster summoned from some dark cosmic morass, Dallas, Texas riffmasters Wo Fat unapologetically blast out a southern fried, blues-infused version of Psychedelic Doom, conjuring up visions of hoodoo shacks, prowling undead, hell hounds at the crossroads, Lovecraftian cultists and ghouls, and worlds beyond where the riff reigns almighty. Wo Fat rose from the deep and began their psyche-doom-adelic quest circa