Unable to recall a time without breathing this rarefied air, being filled by a feeling of continuous weariness and existential angst. Analysing every variation, storing them deep inside of me, with the awareness that they'll consume me, corrupting every single cell. The loss of every genuine connection with this world I live in, I have lost it all.
Nothing or no one has escaped in this land from the conversion. I'm nothing but a machine myself, built with my own hands. I'm nothing but a machine myself. Helplessness is my path. Are we really losing ourselves? The sense of our actions, our own identity? We are losing our own consciousness. A long road without objective.
The exhaustion, the beginning of decadence. The loss of every genuine connection with this world I live in, I have lost it all. Nothing or no one has escaped in this land from the conversion. Physiologically alive but mentally dead. This gave rise to the pleasure of destruction. Pleasure of destruction and passion to devour them all, including myself.
Two impressive vocalists, variable and skilled guitarists and a tight and very powerful rhythm section. That plus the ability to write a song really leaves nothing left to desire here. mourner
Fusing ’90s metalcore, ’00s vaporwave, and ’20s cybergrind, the Texans' debut showcases an unprecedented unholy trinity. Bandcamp New & Notable May 17, 2023