Aztec Death – Helpful Hands

 

“Helpful Hands” coldly bitter message is delivered through a thick bass that feels like sinking into black tar and a hypnotic screech from the guitar that echos Christopher’s raging vocals and gothic lyrics.

 

They came into service willingly
To heed the call of your enemy
Packaged wild fire
Useful fool’s desire

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Luna Luna – Revelation

 

Luna Luna’s Revelation is a nostalgic summer jam that cools you with its dreamy pop synths, dripping bells, and a rhythm breakdown mid-way in the song that’ll have you swaying your hips as you think about a past lover.

Cuco: Audiotree Session

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While Cuco‘s first two albums mix lofi synths with a west coast hip-hop vibe with just enough Spanish to start a music movement, I always felt that they never displayed the multi-instrumentalist’s talent as much as a live performance does. Audiotree’s session with Cuco produces a organic version of Cuco’s romantic songs whilst capturing his quirky personality with his friends between songs.   Continue reading “Cuco: Audiotree Session”

Among The Rocks And Roots – Requiem

 

What starts as an ordinary doom metal track with dark heavy riffs and breakdowns transcend to a haunting tribal conga drum rhythm, that leads you through a ritual walk way into a reverberating tunnel that ends with you falling into a endless void of static. Requiem is a 24-minute journey of a man’s agonizing pain.

1/29

I’m staring at the remains of an abandoned room. The language on the walls announces the period the room was last visited. The photos are fading, but if you look closely you can see a vision that was once meant to be.

I’m standing outside myself trying to grasp forgotten documents and notebooks scattered through the room, on dusty shelves and tattered floor, but the memorabilia keep slipping through my fingers. What is this?
I want to hold a piece of what was. A breeze, coming from shattered windows, crumble the pages into ash and drifts the remains away. Continue reading “1/29”

There’s a void that needs to be noted.

The space where my creativity nourished,

is now buried in a box of long past gone lovers.

Clinging to a crippled paper,

hoping that…

dreams can straighten and recover.

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