Black Boot - demo CS

More of that Toxic State New York nastiness, noisy and bloody, rubbed raw down to the bone, vocals like a tongueless bark. False Rune is an unhinged stamp, clattering down with an exposing glare: "YOU SHIT/YOUR SILK PANTS/THEY ARE/STILL SILK". Clawed a scrabble, Spitshine a blunt relentless drive, Grave a tear, slamming in concrete, squealing and rubbing with grabbing intensity, Mirage a thrust of paranoiac ooze. Labyrinth has more deep lost terror, flailing "CLAUSTROPHOBIC/SPIRALING CORNERS/BOTH THE SAME/BARREN JOURNEY". A punk struggle buried in a grief of turbulent black noise, clipping and crackling. A blastedwall haemorrhaging of rot and panic.