1. |
Perfected Nervousness
01:39
|
|||
|
Is it a knife or a hand, is it my knee, my night stand or the bedroom door
I'm fucking bored
Lost in this cave, living room, sunshine gives it a brownish gloom
And a yellow coat of heavy smoke
Hanging on the couch like that girl from the anti-drug commercial
Turn every sound down a notch and let the ac show its best hum
The voids pulsations, perfected nervousness
Am I on my knees?
I think I'm on my knees
Am I on my knees?
Am I on my knees?
I think I'm on my knees
Am I on my knees?
I think I am
Am I on my knees?
I think I am on my fucking knees
|
||||
2. |
Malignant
03:32
|
|||
|
It is crawling in sheer darkness, walking on tippy toes, undiagnosed
X-ray shadow, you sneaky fucker
Standing on pulsating floors now
Soaking up thin air of this abandoned house
Everything heads a wretched way
This is nothingness, this is headache
God is dead, the tumor said
God is dead, the tumor said
Spreaded out wings, plastic bags in the wind
Hear the pulse ring, this is nothingness
Morphine, the last fog
Hope has left the tumor said
Morphine, the last fog
This is nothingness
This is nothingness
This is nothingness
This is
This is death
|
||||
3. |
Slow Panic
02:12
|
|||
|
Can't spit out this fucking knot
Phone cables crumble up inside my throat
Don't know if I sit or stand
Have you said anything already?
Sheer apathy, dull bumping, sharp treading
I'm a nerve pile in slow panic
Can't spit out this fucking knot
Can't piss out this fucking lump
I see a reappearing construction that even feels thought out somehow
Get out you lifeless structure
Get out, Get out
|
||||
4. |
Tract
02:33
|
|||
|
Shoulders push their way into the carpet, are these hairs yours or mine?
My dry eyes can't tell the time, I'm rolling around in this frying pan
Commercial breaks of a sitcom rerun are flies this brain feeds on
As the sound of the TV gets louder and the colors brighter, brighter
Waves of pisslike liquid
Waves of pisslike liquid
Waves of pisslike liquid, big as fucking oceans
Shiny glimpses of flickering light
The floor is pressed deep into my hip and chest
And into my head and arms and legs
The floor is pressed deep into my hip and chest
And into my head and arms and legs
A
Body
Pushing
It's
Way
Through
A
Body
Pushing
It's
Way
Through
Through
Through
Through
Through
|
||||
INTO THE BUZZING ROOM Münster, Germany
Artist from Germany.
Noise, Industrial, Experimental, Punk, you name it!
Always looking for shows!
Contact: intothebuzzingroom@gmail.com
If you like INTO THE BUZZING ROOM, you may also like:
The enigmatic punk-rap duo of Justin Pearson (The Locust, Swing Kids) and hip-hop producer Luke Henshaw make their long-awaited return.
go to album
Infusing live drums with glitched-out guitar fuzz and politically charged bars, Youniss reckons with a world still entrenched in anti-Blackness.
go to album
The veteran noise unit takes on themes of loneliness and isolation with their harsh, disquieting soundscapes.
go to album
Four new rowdy, impossibly catchy songs from this post-punk group who bridge rough-edged New Zealand-style pop with darker, steelier sounds.
go to album
Paso En El Vacio
by Futuro De Hierro
Brutal, grinding, industrial-tinged songs that pair serrated synths with howling, agonized vocals.
go to album
i've seen a way
by Mandy, Indiana
A bracing collision of post-punk & electronics that plays like Theoretical Girls recording for L.I.E.S.
go to album
Fractured Whole
by Cruel Diagonals
Every sound here is made using Megan Mitchell's voice, even though the music often sounds more like Earth’s vibrations than a human singing.
go to album
