no country for old wainds
Active Member
- Nov 23, 2002
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Uncompromising waves of rhythmic aggression and powerdrill intonation guide this work, overlapping a wall of noise with emergent harmonies, constantly further eroding reality like a fleshblender. While a percussionist pugilistically reverberates his drum heads guitar and bass wail together in culminating violence, tuned not as much to the muffled chopping noise but the singing resonance of the lightspeed strumming hereto employed. This rhythm is cloaked in the abrasive mechanical tone of the amplification/distortion and the coarse textural whisper of death metal vocals, muted in relativity to the pounding release behind it.
