Tuesday, 6 September 2016
Sunday, 7 August 2016
Tuesday, 14 June 2016
Wednesday, 18 May 2016
This band shared my split with Grimmness via Facebook a few weeks ago, and I've been meaning to reciprocate for a while. I figured I'd share it here so I can write a little more than I would on Facebook. I don't know much about this band, but they play raw punk that kind of reminds me of mid-80's UK hardcore (if anyone remembers the "Grind Your Mind" compilation that came out about ten years ago, think disc one of that). It's mostly angry mid-paced punk, with a few touches of crust and pv thrown in around the edges, and lyrics that mostly stay in snark mode. If you like the sort of thing that Static Shock/Quality Control/Katorga Works put out, or if you're the type of person who regularly spends their evenings trawling blogs for cryptic Japanese hardcore demos, you'll probably get a kick out of this thing.
Cranstøn-Stoatgobbler
Cranstøn-Stoatgobbler
Friday, 13 May 2016
Saturday, 26 March 2016
Wednesday, 23 March 2016
Lyrics from the split with Grimmness
FYI, the cassettes of my split with Grimmness won't have lyrics printed in the inserts, so if you're interested in knowing what I'm singing about on my tracks, here they are:
UNHOLY SHITSTORM IN THE ENDLESS SPIRALLING THREAD
fucking neckbeard
piece of shit.
you call yourself a superman
while you rub your shrivelled dick.
try to prove you're metal with your teenage slurs
well take a look around. no one fucking cares
claim to hate the modern world but we all fucking know
the bullshit that you preach is still the status quo
ignorant enough to think that you're the one oppressed
your dsbm tag makes me ashamed to be depressed
you think you're breaking rules with the stupid shit you say
but everyone can see you're just another m.r.a.
fuck your keyboard reich.
TERRAFORMING THE INNER WORLD
fall into the black behind the t.v.
touch the screen and you slip right through
a change of cast that no one else can see
understudy for the actor playing you
novel scenes with familiar themes
fall apart on this side of the screen
red raging rings of trees
burn through old memories
the streetcleaner cleans the streets
blackening the pavement between the trees
your eyes are drawn to the cold concrete
you slip back through the screen
enter the familiar t.v. self
a double perfectly cast
their date of birth withheld
a grinning doll without a past
ORBITING
[instrumental]
THE MATTER
vehicles surge like clots in lungs
converging in a vein
nothing drives dead eyes and tongues
with obscure desires ingrained
the only motion is serotonin
drifting through membranes
as focus fails to find the emotions
with which memory is stained
a bird flocks with drones.
alone.
come see puppets in the finest styles
act out your conceits
sticks and stones make for convincing bones
with wires to move their feet
but the magic here is that the puppeteer
is composed of gears and springs
pull back the curtain and all is clear:
this is a theatre of things
a bird flocks with drones.
home.
the humming of distant machines
the fuzzing of broken screens
in the absence of intent a pattern still forms
wires attached to wings coalesce into swarms
the machines parse code arranged in unseen lines
in the absence of affection there is no other mind
UNHOLY SHITSTORM IN THE ENDLESS SPIRALLING THREAD
fucking neckbeard
piece of shit.
you call yourself a superman
while you rub your shrivelled dick.
try to prove you're metal with your teenage slurs
well take a look around. no one fucking cares
claim to hate the modern world but we all fucking know
the bullshit that you preach is still the status quo
ignorant enough to think that you're the one oppressed
your dsbm tag makes me ashamed to be depressed
you think you're breaking rules with the stupid shit you say
but everyone can see you're just another m.r.a.
fuck your keyboard reich.
TERRAFORMING THE INNER WORLD
fall into the black behind the t.v.
touch the screen and you slip right through
a change of cast that no one else can see
understudy for the actor playing you
novel scenes with familiar themes
fall apart on this side of the screen
red raging rings of trees
burn through old memories
the streetcleaner cleans the streets
blackening the pavement between the trees
your eyes are drawn to the cold concrete
you slip back through the screen
enter the familiar t.v. self
a double perfectly cast
their date of birth withheld
a grinning doll without a past
ORBITING
[instrumental]
THE MATTER
vehicles surge like clots in lungs
converging in a vein
nothing drives dead eyes and tongues
with obscure desires ingrained
the only motion is serotonin
drifting through membranes
as focus fails to find the emotions
with which memory is stained
a bird flocks with drones.
alone.
come see puppets in the finest styles
act out your conceits
sticks and stones make for convincing bones
with wires to move their feet
but the magic here is that the puppeteer
is composed of gears and springs
pull back the curtain and all is clear:
this is a theatre of things
a bird flocks with drones.
home.
the humming of distant machines
the fuzzing of broken screens
in the absence of intent a pattern still forms
wires attached to wings coalesce into swarms
the machines parse code arranged in unseen lines
in the absence of affection there is no other mind
Saturday, 19 March 2016
Friday, 15 January 2016
You can hear a track each from Kastchei and Grimmness from our upcoming split tape on this compilation from This Noise Is Ours:
https://thisnoiseisours.bandcamp.com/album/reverberations-vol-2
They have info on all the bands featured here:
http://www.thisnoiseisours.com/2016/01/this-noise-is-ours-presents.html
Happy listening
J.
https://thisnoiseisours.bandcamp.com/album/reverberations-vol-2
They have info on all the bands featured here:
http://www.thisnoiseisours.com/2016/01/this-noise-is-ours-presents.html
Happy listening
J.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)