1. |
Guide
04:36
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Choke all heavens, our path is clear
We've blinded our sentience
And in that: protection
A fledgling species; un-
yielding, un-wavering, and all
our ears ring and they ring:
We are sorry.
She is a beacon, we are drawn.
As she sputters and dies, our star winks out.
She is a beacon, we are drawn.
There has to be solace somewhere.
Guide: Lost.
And so it goes
We're left alone, we've what we've done
Killed our reflection, and an eternity of cold
Breathes in all directions "this is your solace"
She is our beacon, we are drawn.
Our guide is the shadow of cold and dawn.
She is our beacon, we are drawn.
Our guide never left us, our guide is a reflection.
And therein: beauty
fore all of pain and all of growth
fore all of cold and of endless unyielding
are found in this loss
"One thousand epics of cold
One thousand epics of crushing
For what never was
And what forever will be"
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2. |
Trespass
04:30
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In Darkness
To light
Hollow and worn
Spit flesh and blood
Trespass in cover
In vacuum of flight
This is no world to call our own
When existence is cancer heal or atone
In one season
In one eternity
Gods whimper
In divine fall
Screaming into a nothing
The sun burns on,
coughs out,
existence collapses.
All tremble
cowering, fall
Save us from the Nothing
Light is gone
Reclaimed it, enslaved
Purity clarity, uprooted in time
With logic and number
Crushed what little they could claim
And sent us spiralling
Sent us spiralling
into our fears
into ourselves
In whisper
"We aren't what remains
we are what has been always"
The hand that spans eternity
Trespassed in guise of light
A notion of quantifiability
Is empty, is empty
Truth in nothing
Truth in all
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3. |
Pleiades
06:19
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Ears, weary of the sounds of screaming, crust over.
Neural pathways close up from disuse,
As we march towards our better world.
A world we created for ourselves in the likeness of heaven;
We cannot see the end.
Eyes, weary of the sight of blood, cloud over.
Blurry shapes the only light remaining;
The market does not need you to see.
Automation has contracted the human condition; we replace
the bots we created in our likeness.
Vocal cords, weary of argument, wither and die.
You have no one to talk to.
You should only be worried
If you have something to hide; your voice
Is good for one thing only: dissension.
When you come of age you are mated to the gears;
Plugged in to the network. Circuits and blood,
flesh and bone, mesh with silicon and metal.
Your destiny realized, automation; submission
Your choice is this:
Submit or be cast away with the detritus of progress.
Freedom to starve or captivity in bliss.
Hear! The last question of youth.
See! Your world or vagrancy and hunger?
Speak! Your last chance to answer.
Speak! Your life, or "ours"?
Speak.
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Autarch Asheville, North Carolina
space-crust from Asheville, NC.
Autarch recommends:
Floridians who play some extremely heavy melodic crust.
go to album
SPLIT LP W/ RECIKLAJE
by Witherandrot
Sounds like early 2000s Spanish crust. Great stuff.
go to albumIf you like Autarch, you may also like:
supported by 17 fans who also own “Split LP with Soothsayer”
Crust with strings is a heartfelt and honest pairing. And the opening track Awoken is such a beautiful track, I can't help but listen to it on repeat.
go to album
supported by 14 fans who also own “Split LP with Soothsayer”
first album in a good trilogy. not the best but not the worst
go to album
More anthemic, post-metal-inspired screamo from the Virginia heavyweights.
go to album
Killed By Mock Execution
by Mock Execution
The Chicago punks seem intent on defying any hardcore conventions, focusing instead on communicating pure disgust for the rotting world around them.
go to album
