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AxAxC – Am I the Monster?

An 8-track concept record diving into the fear, guilt, rejection, and rage of existence. This is AxAxC at our most vulnerable. From the heartbreak of First Choice to the suicidal abyss of Barrel of a Gun, through to the climactic title track Am I the Monster? and the furious closer Seeing Red.

This album questions whether our unique experiences, ancestry and choices we make, lead in us becoming monsters. We ask for everyone who’s ever asked: Am I guilty just for existing? Am I safe, but never chosen? Am I the monster?

Tracklist:

- First Choice (4:33)
- Fear of Me (3:52)
- Guilty of Skin (4:49)
- Eye of the Street (4:12)
- Barrel of a Gun (4:32)
- Am I the Monster? (5:34)
- Corazón (4:22)
- Seeing Red (4:29)

Band Statement:

This album is the sound of fear, rejection, and survival distilled into music. We’ve written from the darkest corners of ourselves, in heartbreak, in prejudice, in alienation, suicidal ideation and bled them into deathcore, ambient ballads, and spoken word interludes.

We are AxAxC. 
We distort. We distrust. We destroy.

For Fans Of:

#Slipknot #Skillet  #Lorna Shore #BringMeTheHorizon #FallingInReverse #SleepToken #Architects #Beartooth.

#deathcore #metalcore  #screamo #ambientmetal #nu-metal #gothicballad #cinematicmetal #AxAxC #AmItheMonster #First Choice #FearofMe #GuiltyofSkin #EyeoftheStreet #BarrelofaGun #Corazón #SeeingRed

AxAxCStudios™ (2025)

Am I the Monster?

Lyrics 

Night shift hum on the river bend,
pine-sap smoke where the tall trunks end.
Belts cry thin and the teeth sing raw,
sawdust snow on our winter jaws.
Lanterns bloom in the timber hall,
boots keep time to the war-toms’ call.


From the rapids to the ridge we carry on—
iron in our hands, thunder in our song.


Raise the hum of the blades—saints of the saw.
Beat the war toms, shake the frost from the thaw.
Sparks like stars—let the forest sing.
Sawmill saints—let the timbers ring.


Chain-oil prayers on the knotted grain,
calloused lines where the years remain.
Steel-tooth chorus in D-minor roar,
hearts like hammers on the oaken floor.
River ghosts drum on the frozen skin—
old ones grin as the wheels spin in.


Hold the line through the cutting night—
shadows bow when the choir ignites.


Hei! Hei! [four to the floor]
Hei! Hei! [toms like war]


Raise the hum of the blades—saints of the saw.
Sparks like stars—let the timbers ring.


River, ridge, and the wheel’s bright wing.

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