the path was lost, in a suffused barrage, of dark brackish water, and coarse pale rope pulling east. I could trace every shard of a broken atom, back to the wilting arrows of an oaken compass, and still not know the names of our mothers, or the tired opus nested in the opalescent hands of a grave and unwavering forbear. Steadfast as nothing. Oblivion nothing more than a collapsing foal, in the wake of some cruel and gratuitous arrow.
Polish noise-crust outfit eschews the big Tragedy-esque riffs still popular with their US counterparts for scratchy claustrophobia. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 2, 2016