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Honestly I don't like this one that much... But It was so close to being done that I decided to finish it! This is sort of your first look at how I make music now though. How different the style is.

More coming soon. I've decided to release a few songs as singles before I make another EP... or maybe I'll put these singles into an EP. We'll see. 

Keep listening - null

Something Else

Raydar - Higher

A Cosmic Corpse

Midnight Magic

The horns of the Rapture engulf the world in sound, beckoning the harbingers.
Upon the horizon they stand… Death, War, Famine, & Conquest. The Four Horsemen.
Together they are to set to cause a divine apocalypse upon the world.
The Last Judgment…

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Continuing down the darksynth path; this 4 track EP is yet another combo of religious iconography, apocalyptic themes and sinister sounding synths!

Death – A hard hitting demonic blend of synthesizers and orchestral instruments.
War – Fast paced, destructive and dangerous. This track oozes energy from every pore.
Famine – Dirty, filth ridden syths pave the way as the song builds tension, growing like a parasite.
Conquest – Contemplative yet powerful. Thematically symbolizing held-back aggression and control.

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A huge thanks to everyone who has been supportive of the music I’ve produced so far!
Please share the EP if you like what you hear and stay tuned for more!
credits
released May 23, 2017

Artwork and Music by Tom Stuart (Occams Laser)

Buy Full EP Here

Conquest

I Am The Cure

Arrival

Download

Get Out

CSTLVNIA

Dead Calm

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The Great Deception

Artwork courtesy of Tuesday Knight games, 
from the Mothership module book "A Pound Of Flesh"
by Jan Buragay

Lyrics:
winchester house recursion 
tumor cancer the system
growth consume all resources 
spout extra fucking limbs

becoming an automata
now an observed phenomena
 
tendrils reach to desert lands
grasp nothing but the

digesting duck, robotic stuck, eyeballs been plucked, replaced by the
computer eyes, sight filled with lies, look up on the

structural (aliens)

labyrinth, zenith of the scene with
your self image, sprouting, twisted
rat king network, knotted it gets worse
disrupt function, new obstruction

units transmute into paste
unmeasurable inane
ungraspable to the brain
pareidolia growing pains
it all feels like fucking goo
circuit connections sprawling through
old desolate now nest of snakes
links shaped as bacteriophage

chemo, see no, separates, ever
again

fried out their bio port
snow crash virus source, says the dark reports
leeched off tor, they purport
ego death mind warp revert into corpse
then melt right into the altered states gunk
deep dream gan now all just one hunk
canvas bag dollar sign watches thru the screen
all going according to the scheme

A Cosmic Corpse

Powerwalker