Despite midnight sessions in graveyards and ghost hunts in the darkest recesses, Loren Connors has created the scariest musical document of his lengthy career. Joined by life-mate and parallel thinker Suzanne Langille, the two songs of I Wish I Didn’t Dream will wring the physical desire to sleep out of you with the unearthly rattle of “Cease To Do Evil.” The morbid reciting of poetry by Langille’s macabre voice is barely trumped by Connor’s quiet wisps, innocuous beyond mood until thunderclaps of anger barrage the eerie calm with freight. “Shenandoah” offers no respite, with Connor’s guitar opening the rusty gates of hell and Langille’s calm mantra calling to the Lord of Darkness. Both have flirted with the dark side before, but I Wish I Didn’t Dream creeps up on the demons to scare them to attention. Whether its age, wisdom, or disease that has wizened Langille and Connors beyond fear is of no consequence; it is now us who must gain the courage to walk through the Inferno to come out cleansed by the fire, our only guiding light the fluorescent orange lacquer that spins slowly in front of us.