totally awesome beyond approach to water tap,....

Melodeath doom metal

Doom:vs Earthless ...

Doom:vs The Slow Ascent ...

Doom:vs Oblivion Upon Us

Doom:vs Aeternus

“No Callar” es pura sangre, guitarra y verdad.
Un disco donde Toni Parra Band se planta con voz firme, sin filtros y sin miedo a decir lo que quema por dentro.
Son once canciones que mezclan rock, rumba eléctrica y ese toque mediterráneo que ya es tu sello, Antonio.

Aquí hay golpes en el alma (Latigazos en el alma), fuego que escala a incendio (De fuego a llama), balas sentimentales (Nada que valorar), y también luz, baile y ganas de seguir adelante.
La banda suena compacta, viva, con ese punto callejero que te baja al suelo y te levanta a la vez.

Un álbum para escuchar fuerte, porque esto no va de callar: va de sentir, de escribir y de vivir sin pedir permiso.

Coplillas

Note: This song originally had a length of 15:30. Songs longer than 10 minutes are unfortunately not allowed on SoundCloud, so it had to be shortened to 9:59.

The concept album reflects on the lives of those who fade into society’s margins—quiet, unnoticed, often overlooked. It portrays a city that is both shelter and maze, a place where destinies unravel and hopes flicker, yet small sparks of humanity still break through the darkness.

It looks where most people never do: toward the wounded, the forgotten, the ones who keep breathing despite every fall.
At its heart, the album says: anyone can stumble, everyone deserves to be seen, and unseen lines connect us all—if we choose to notice them.

Burning Maps of Yesterday

Opened my veins yesterday and poured in the twilight
with its dead promises. Nothing makes sense in an imaginary
world that no one can touch. In the strange hours I dream of evenings 
under moonrise and of fashioned ideals before they could turn
and go, had seeped their treachery into my widowed summers. Is this my lover, this face of death? I recoil to the unmoving view.

The soft, voiceless emotions escape the exhausted frame to assail
tomorrows empty heaven. The dawn, with its dull smell, fills my nostrils
and the stench of a burning sun separates the hope from silent lips.

There is something painful in the first spring bud of life, it tears at the insides and claws at the doors of tenderness 
that riseth in black forms from an obsolete graveyard.

To cast my eyes on the horrors you have created or to turn and gaze
at the clouds? It remains cold and dark and the painless times revel in
a distant memory that only seem to trespass when the night is clear.

The bitterness tastes sweet and it conjures up images
of a narcissistic funeral 
that injure my dreams
narcissistic dreams

The wordless world bleeds to the point of despair and the failed attempts to move end in quiet massacres. The lurid calm is a stalking mountain that eludes the perceptive eye but eventually overwhelms to send us cowering.

Wine From Tears-Let me in

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