I write heresies and sign my name,
publish and perish all the same.
You ask why should I not stay?
Your sobrieties are all a shame
If you have pills on the candle flame.
Tell me, where's your doubter's face?
Your anxieties caught in a pill
Makes you feel like you can feel
When your religion is all DeMille
Just wash it down, wash the lies out from the real.
With your doubts, it's all the same
Now you see how it feels to say,
"I fell off my name."
Your computer says your time is gone
You've been idling for too long.
You give up now, and turn away
And when the virus makes your blood start to decay
With your doubts, it's all the same
Now you see how it feels to say,
"I fell off my name."
The latest from celebrated electronic composer Steve Roach, which uses only analog synths, is rich, warm, and pulsing with life. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 2, 2017
Epic isn't big enough to describe this (solo!) artist's giant wall of sound. Crank up the volume, prepare for a sweet pummeling. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 16, 2015