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
Dead Cross, Retox, and Qui members dish out subversive hardcore with an indignant smirk; come for the riffs, stay for the synth experiments. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 31, 2024