“Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death” is an album mixes hardcore punk’s ferocity with extreme metal’s dark, poetic complexity.
Musically it deconstructs all the basic elements of punk, hardcore, grind, death metal, noise, thrash and black metal and puts the pieces together in a nonconforming post-modern way while sound-wise staying raw and old school.
Lyrically this is an album about the normalization of collective insanity and how our twisted, unrealistic definition of the “normal” affects the mental health of the individuals and the society. Today the system we live in pushes us further into a soul crushing monotony and sameness filled with a horrifying suppressed anxiety. Everyday we ignore our emotions and try to meet unrealistic expectations of the society whose only fundamental value is money. We don’t know where we are, what we are and why do we live because we compleletly forgot our universal cosmic roots. Overwhelming feeling of powerlessness and desperation it creates on every individual gets us little bit closer to inhumanity everyday and since everybody is trying to act like everything is ok, everyone of us thinks “something should be wrong with me” while the only thing being wrong is living in a system which values the money and power more than love, happiness, beauty, meaning, truth and freedom.
Album takes its name from “The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death” which is a series of nineteen intricately designed dollhouse-style dioramas of actual murder scenes, created by Frances Glessner Lee (1878–1962), a pioneer in forensic science.
Lyrics of the songs are seperate poems while the actual vocal lines recorded on the album are just selected words and lines from the poems and inscrutable screams emphasizes emotion more than meaning.
The album is recorded in Istanbul by the band, mixed by Taylor Young at The Pit Recording Studio and mastered by Brad Boatright at Audiosiege.
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lyrics
Majör Arkana Pt.1: The Mind
“I am The Magician
Hanged upside down on a tree
And if I hear one more billionaire story
I’m gonna throw up”
Little pieces of shit pearls
On the necklace of
The High Priestess
“Why are you scared? Isn’t this what you wanted?”
She asked like a frustrated sous-chef
Like a best friend betrayed
He was the broken pieces of a little clay statue
In an ocean of clay
All the numbers were there but they were like
Colors
Every calendar turned into sub-particles of smoldering ash
“I can give you anything and everything”
You can imagine
“I just want to beat the biggest monster”
“Your wish is my command”
Back in the garden of thousand mirror monsters and long, sumptuous golden apple trees. He didn’t remember a thing. Found himself crying on his knees again. When he paused for a moment, first he just saw a beautiful pair of giant shiny feet. Lift his head up and there she was, the most gorgeous and enormous mirror monster ever lived with countless silver moon branches bifurcating endleslly. “I’m The Empress” she said from the other side of the looking glass, her voice was like heroin, “Prepare for the death of the man you think you know already.”
They fought for years and years and years. At the beginning, he was coming up with tons of different strategies. Cutting off countless silver branches just to see two new fossillized ones growing in him inwardly for every one he trims. Then, in time, he started to enjoy watching his image on this beautiful beast, making his hair for her every morning, dressing up like a royal fiend.
And one day, he woke up knowing exactly how to defeat her.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?”
An endless-seeming backroom full of countless vintage computers, patch cables, tube monitors, dot matrix printers and angular green digits on pitch black screens
A wise-ass looking humanoid dwarf fox at the center
(with a pilot hat and a to-go paper soda cup in one hand, no need to mention)
Plugging in and out cables, entering numbers and mumbling commercial jingles frantically
A sign reading “Do Not Disturb The Hierophant” hangs over his head
As he impatiently waits before a fax machine.
He rips the paper and brings it near The Magician,
Saying, “Don’t mean to offend but… Can’t you see?”
The Magician looks at the backdated official paper and reads the words:
“The Emperor… Duh.”
The Emperor runs to The Empress, getting down on his knees one more time but this time with a proud smile from ear to ear. "My raison d'être, will you be something else with me?" She says "finally," and they become The Lovers, starting to kiss. They melt into each other and turn into one and someone new. The thin, holy, dense veil thins further, and now the whole game is much clearer. The skies rip open, and there's The High Priestess again. Without any disbelief and with a bittersweet sigh of relief, The Lovers yell:
"Yes! Yes, it is."
(And they hop into The Chariot and disappear. The end.)
Now start from the beginning.
36 choice cuts - one from each 2015 LP, plus music from new signings on the mighty and 25-years-strong Relapse label. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 4, 2015
