The hall resounds with a thousand voices familiar
Relics from the past, superimposed
The procession draws to a standstill, stating:
"There is no device as faulty as your tongue,
Spouting empty words from empty lungs
There is a void that cannot be filled
By any of your hollow objects
Disguised as truth or otherwise
Another nail"
Dismantling convention
Laying waste to the all-too-familiar psyche
Frozen in place
Driving for the reinvention of an old passion
Standing in a current and trying not to budge
From the first deadened cowbell to the last dissonant guitar interval, Dutch quartet Geo's new record is shaped for impact. Bandcamp Album of the Day Apr 25, 2024