I love it when you make music with your kids, I remember your oldest kiddo dancing around to "apple pie" on your acoustic guitar.

DBZXGRIND

main track/drums: Brendan O'Donnell
synth/additional production: Alexoteric
lyrics/vox: Alexoteric
guitar/additional production: Bruce Howze, Jr

Honey, the change of the the seasons brings another gift, 
another challenge of the cobras and of the myths
of our rotten generations
those same gods that bound us last summer
their holy bodies wash up on the shores
of the bedrooms of our nation

You're so strange, for reasons i can't admit, 
drinking form your chalice seems so alien, so forfeit
But I know there's hope on the horizon
I know there's wonders outside of their cold machinations
We spent our final cents on paths and rent
and a collection of tapes that were never meant to be shown

This is not a test

Test

crass
chumbawamba
hagar the womb
thatcher on acid
passion killers
homosexuals
desperate bicycles
D&V
obscene grouses
protex
puncture
dolly mixture
mandela strike force
the pack
margaret thatcher
ronald reagan
your funeral
j church




Make Tea Not War

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+Thank You for all your support, words do not express how i feel about you and how much you help me behind the music. I have a lot of new content and videos coming soon and I'm also looking forward to revealing more of my personality in these next upcoming projects. 

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[!] This Video is Strictly for Non Profit Only / All Rights Reserved to Original Audio Engineer / Producer [Deemax] 
 / Great Job on this Beat

Rucki - No Days Off

imagination of distruction demo 2017 

War must disarm 2017

Guitars, bass and vocals by Perry Shall
Drums and synth by Bruce Howze

Recorded for Jon Solomon's 25-Hour Holiday Radio Show on WPRB

A POLITICAL SONG FOR ADAM SANDLER TO SING

Lyrics:
Emotional assimilation. Trauma is worn scarred-tissue skin seared by state sanctioned aspirations. Underneath my will to live clings tight my will to die. The silent secret of my strength is all the shame I’ve centralized. The people I see whose suffering’s steeped in dreams of nothing when their eyes close to sleep don’t see the void that they meet as so much more comforting. I dream of nothing when I close my eyes to sleep, each day awake just lies in wait to shape clean breaks away in vain from daily debasement. Engage the escapist, unendingly inaccessible until ingratiated. I dream of nothing but ending my self-defeat. Apparently my revealings of my injuries are just my manipulative tendency. And these techniques spoken to me about responsibility and integrity are suffocating placating sayings placed to efface me. I was taken through the threshold by the tension I’ve espoused, fitted for full integration into a burning house.

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jimfod

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