Nesting bloodless, breathless objects
Plastic allure, coherence
Artificial nonexistence
Adoring their glitchy wit
Revering their expressionless, mangled faces
Nil icon
Pulsating skin of an engine
Lateral stabs, decontrol
Wisdom teething through the layers of this idle, synthetic occult deity
Nesting bloodless, breathless object
Coherence
Shifting into extropian malformation
Optional conversion to a conscientious phase of anthropoid anomaly
Carelessness is our habitual rightness
Entitlement to push everything too far
Injected to our nature through the mother's milk
Wisdom teething through the layers of a nil icon
This is not your place to prosper
It won't yield before your fucking feet
Toxic galore
Here's no room for you to feed, no
Wisdom teething, singularitarianism
This is not your fucking place
supported by 43 fans who also own “Wisdom Teething”
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
The indescribable Fawn Limbs return with another LP that slams together grindcore, math rock & experimental music to jaw-dropping effect. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 22, 2021