Read My Mind

Jucifer - за волгой для нас земли нет (There Is No Land Beyond the Volga)
An aural tempest brews as the history of a land steeped in epic struggle, passion and beauty spews forth—a history informed by the rhythm of the grasses, the waters, the animals and the nomad tribes—a history of armies, great battles, many deaths, iconic leaders and the followers loyal—to the cause of a land that tempts all men with the powers of conquest and trade—wars innumerable fought through winters of unspeakable loss—generations of warriors, soldiers, citizens noble—bred from this soil nourished by blood—the land is the body and soul. Tsaritsyn, Stalingrad, Volgograd—Russia. With their eighth full-length album, nomadic sludge death-drone duo Jucifer channels the soul / soil of a place called Volgograd into an hour and seventeen minutes of music as storied and powerful as the land and people to which they have dedicated this latest offering. Entitled за волгой для нас земли нет (“There Is No Land Beyond the Volga,” a quote from a Russian soldier in the battle of Stalingrad), Jucifer’s new concept album tells the history of Volgograd (formerly Stalingrad) from the perspective of its people, its soldiers, its children and the very land itself. And the music? Sonic S&M for the modern, corroded soul; untouchable epithets of beauty; grim odes to all that’s heavy—some of the best songwriting to emerge in modern extreme / heavy music today. There’s Sleep, there’s the Melvins, and there’s Jucifer. It’s that simple and strong. A hot oil bath of riff after vicious riff. Massive, distortion-soaked stoner sludge Sabbath worship—down-tuned, skin-curdling, infectious, headbanging riffs beaten into submission by the unmistakable, power-hungry rhythm of Lucifer’s custom hard-hitting kit. A sludge-rock landscape imbued with the scars this history left on the band’s psyche, crusted with the yellow dust stirred by their feet as they walked Volgograd’s hallowed ground on a hot hungover post-show afternoon; a sonic land populated by harmonies of the damned; fuzzed-out blacktop solos and a turning of the screw as slow and painful as the Russian winters these arcane volume addicts are singing about. If you’re only going to listen to one sludge-fueled concept album about Stalingrad this year, make Jucifer’s за волгой для нас земли нет your go-to baby. It will not disappoint.

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Jucifer - Pavlov's House

To The One I've Shouldn't Love So Much

First recording of Fist Fight With Gandhi's new song Flatline live december 29, 2014.

Lyrics:
You survive to suffer
you're vulnerable to vultures
you're helpless and weak
a plague doctor's mask fashions my beek

My patient, my pray
I peck your flesh with needles
I inject to infect
and now you flatline

Poke and push it in
you're gonna flatline

Flatline Live December 29,2014

Originally recorded by the wipers
We changed it up;
Straight as an arrow Defect defect
Not straight not so straight Regect regect
Towards anti social so dull so dull
So boring to me, misery
Siting here on the stairs cold cold morning
Ghostly image of fear mayday mayday
Gonna leave this region theyll be taking me with them
Dimension Seven Dimension Seven 
D-7

Your father is a teacher

My neighbor died tonight
encased in linoleum and crumbling slate
Do you think they saw it coming?
Did they have time to make their peace?
Did they get what they wanted?
Could they put that into words?
Were they yearning for a feeling
that they barely understood?

The forlorn daughter
dopesick in a stolen car
camouflaged against the snow
but it's all for naught
such urges fester in our bones

a mythology of touch
the salt beneath the skin
no more nourishing this time
than it's ever been

in the absence of desire, I am untethered
beseeched by craving unfulfilled I am hollow
biting my lip
supine beneath the moon
tracing the afterimage of your touch with calloused fingertips 
quivering,
trembling, 
given unto the flesh
mirthless smile
bloodshot eyes
screaming

The Death of Desire (Demo)

It stabs and it shrieks, it hums the tone that sinks its way into our bones
the only way out, inside yourself, trust becomes an empty word
if this is what feelings sound like we have a problem on our hands

A Nice Thing, Taken From Its Rightful Place And Lost

A drum solo type thing. sound kinda sucks, i could have made it a bit better but fuck itt. The playing is also kinda shitty but this is just a test to see how people may like my sound, even with a broken cymbal.

D-7

thegreenmind

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