A black hole is about to swallow us whole

Devourer

Devourer of Worlds

Entity, the unseen architect of the Columbus-based band Exit Bag, is not just a recluse—he is a vessel. His identity is a secret not by choice, but by necessity, for the man himself is merely a shell for the demonic force that drives the band's music. The name Exit Bag isn't just a metaphor for despair; it's an offering, a promise of a final, unholy escape.
The music isn't merely composed; it is conjured. Each track is a ritual, a discordant symphony of post-punk dissonance and industrial decay that seems to claw its way up from a forgotten abyss. Entity's vocals, a cacophony of whispers and guttural screams, are not his own. They are the voice of a nameless entity, a malignant spirit that speaks through him, weaving a tapestry of damnation and blasphemy.
The band's existence is a self-contained paradox. There are no live shows because the music is too dangerous to be performed in the physical world; it's a contagion of sound that could corrupt and madden all who hear it. Entity's purpose isn't to entertain, but to spread a message of utter nihilism and despair, a siren's call to the damned. He is the faceless prophet of a new kind of evil, a shadow figure whose work suggests that the true horror lies not in the demons you see, but in the ones you let inside.