There is a steel encasement buried miles beneath the earth; an elevator that drops at the grating sound of manufact leading to the world’s basement. There are old ones who died along the way carving this ditch out of the dirt, limed on the chasm like fractals. There is no way in or out the basement, just the elevator—that or the long sleep; our bodies in deep-freeze.
Tremors; the elevator dropped, carrying more of us from the holding zones. Each one of us now frozen in this hell; dreaming, disappeared and undead. Then, tremors; in a split-second, at the attic, a howling chaos. The rumble of the tempest shook the steel crawling down the shaft waking us from our soft narcosis.
supported by 34 fans who also own “Cocytus Dwellers”
Quite possibly the most full-on album I've ever listened to. Intense, and then some. 'Digital Tarpit' could describe both the track and the whole album: high-pitched guitar squeals that make your fillings itch coupled with merciless, suffocating heaviness. The Avenell-esque vocals top it off perfectly.
Brilliant - punishing, but brilliant. jim_fuego