Prequor - Lost Society

Runaway trash, 

lost society,

kids on a wave

ridding, full metal

to their consumption.

source: LOST SOCIETY - Trash All Over You (OFFICIAL MUSIC VIDEO)

Ghost, Reseñas

Lideres sumandose al peligro de una derrota,
el hacerlo para morir en vano,
cuantos mas destos en formacion.

con guillotinas,
armas, cuchillos y martillos,
la milicia enfurecida.

avanza,
avanza!

ensangrentadas las manos de tierra y dolor,
enterraron a sus hijxs en la montaña,
donde bajan las tormentas de la venganza.

eran las balas ciegas,
nubes dentro de nubes,
el imperio caia.

Ghost, la orquesta de la cemilla,
esta que germina en el espacio,
del sol eterno, la luz gravedad.

Maracaibo, reseña de la calle

Suenas,
calle.

estrujando botellas, sudor, orin de dias,
la estupides de la sangre muerta fuera de ti,
dentro tambien nos destruye.

huye!
lucha!
Grita!

eres vida!

Penetrode.
Tributo a la que se nos fue en Miami, una jovencita en su juventud,
bella, picadura de mostros, en trance era luz, y se nos fue para siempre.

Xentrix, reseña del disco "Shattered existance"

Conectados unos con otros, el tiempo-espacio, la realidad de una mente organica formando pensamientos etereos, energia de nuestra existencia, la combinacion y localizacion de nuestra vida en el universo.

Por eso mismo las llamamos, creamos, vemos, dormidos en nuestro pensamiento, maquina que esconde nuestros datos preciados, la creatividad del mas alla, la posecion maestra del joven ser empujado por su peso, el mismo viejo a lo largo de la cuerda. El pasado.

Este al que nos visita mientras meditamos, resitamos su nombre y en movimientos o pena, arrodillamos nuestro ser para darle bienvenida a su especie, el condimento de la locura, el pretender ser entero cuando habra un punto central entre la muerte y el objeto, eso que sientes lentamente ir de vuestro cuerpo. 

Se acercan, una vez amoblada el alma, y te consumen sus promesas, el pacto entre la sangre docil de mover y su contenido vivo por momentos. 

'y vemos como todavia nos conectamos al tiempo'

Quienes ahora palpitan el sonido fisico de nuestras almas en pena, en un espacio expandido.

El maestro y el aprendis, donde la musica es magia.

De Inglaterra, este grupo trash-metal, donde los ritmos de las guitarras definen la agresividad y sus baterias la completan, el bajo empujando el sonido hacia el fin de nuestra percepcion, sea tacto, inensidad u oido, y la voz tenasmente montando a esta bestia y la enloquece. Enloquecen por los golpes de otros como estos, dentro de la hoya, fuera desta, vienen como llegaron, y estaran mientras seamos estos quienes esten. dentro de sus burbujas mutadas por la corrosiva realidad. quien sienta que siga. empujando espacio, dentro.

Source: 

http://www.metal-archives.com/bands/Xentrix/746

http://www.rocksins.com/2015/11/xentrix-acid-reign-live-at-the-underworld-camden-town-london-25980/

http://www.fotolog.com/poderydolor/

picture:

Penetrode, reseña de finalsas

Penetrode, del pene trade.

with some contagious reason behind their lyrics and their rifts, and it's voice as the one setting the resonance, a box asides the rhythm, trapped ina regressive chamber of aggression and empowerment through about that solution of anger hidden in your existence.

Penetrode, are those noises in your head that claim there's more to it, to find it all...

leaving no more than an obsession when silence takes over.

Penetrode, they're good.

bandcamp and ad for this, provided by OrganiCorg.

https://penetrode.bandcamp.com/

Penetrode,

from Philadelphia. 

CRUD, reseña en Maracaibo

consumidos diariamente hacia los sentidos opuestos; la tierra; en su velocidad relativa sigue a la deriva, protejida por Jupiter titan y sus cuerdas, vibraciones gravitacionales que os cubren con su luz, la gravedad corrompida, la musica.

Donde el dolor al llanto

una vez capturada

el nacimiento de la vida,

como espanto deambula.

llegando a este cuerpo como flama y potencia,

soldando tiempos

en constante movimiento.

la temperatura generada, de miami

una ciudad mustiada por la fermentada humedad dentro de las valvulas de aceite y maquina. 

parte 2

Como tanque de guerra sus carros modificaron

cuerpos sobrevivientes de las calles

con las herramientas mecanicas galopaban, 

los jinetes en sus corazas,

castillos y fortaleza,

las calaveras sonreian a su vez

la muertr;

en cada revolucion; mil; mil; a mil

aceleraban la ciudad

motor de tanque

carros mutados, admirados como angeles,

del infierno el cielo se nubla,

la lluvia, escama de religiones

cubre con su encanto la fe de condiciones

el ritual

y sus movimientos siempre raspando la houa;

a ver si no quedan mas como esta banda

C R U D

los mas duros y pesados de esta aceitosa y cruda resina de la hoya;

donde los mas duros quedan pegados hasta el final.

visita bandcamp:

CRUD miami.

SECT, reseña

SECT

España 

punk

Nutcheck, reseña fracionaria del movimiento en Miami del DIY

Intro

Heart-Shaped Box

She eyes me like a pisces when I am weak

I've been locked inside your Heart-Shaped box for a week

I was drawn into your magnet tar pit trap

I wish I could eat your cancer when you turn back

Hey

Wait

I've got a new complaint

Forever in debt to your priceless advice

Hate

Haight

I've got a new complaint

Forever in debt to your prieless advice

Hey

Wait

I've got a new complaint

Forever in debt to your priceless advice

Meat-eating orchids forgive no one just yet

Cut myself angel's hair and baby's breath

Broken hymen of your highness I'm left black

Throw down your umbilical noose so I can climb right back

Act I

viva la revolution!

viva la revolution! -screaming feral rebels, you're there, there!

when they were just babies, little feral beings, born on the endless path we all try to avoid, from the heaviest of weight, that back had to be strong to endure all it's content, so we can have it.

the story of a monster that hides inside us. as a caution tale, were the Coco is us, beyond our limits. freedom. 

Act II

and in all that madness, 

bursted violence, broken bottles,

a singularity,
no heroes, nor peaceful endings,

but heroine, were she is dress in nothing,
to rescue me.

Act III

and hacking, hacking the universe around

when Weev has a personal vendetta,

were Aaron died for our sins, he felt them as his,

and the Hammonds are in jail,
the anarchist!

because as freedom fighters, they fought and won,

as any government will make sure rebels learn,

they are now under their supervision,

static,

dry,

forgotten,

in a rotten cell,

being hurt by the lack of freedom

while their enemies,

those companies,

those racist haters,

that military complex,

is happily getting everything they want,

as they control the law, and order around them,

no wonder why we die young

cause there is really no future for the wild,

but the conformed, molded good boys.

Act IV

becareful,

beware!

they are watching you,

the crackers of the world,

the rapist of your daughters

the murderers that never were, gonna become for you,

your overcharged temporary weakness,

and the end.

Act V

If you heart is small,

if your spirit is lost,

if your mind is docile,

then, yes!

there is no escape...

Act VI

but no!

hell NO!

we wont die without a fight!

as long as there is fire to burn our bodies

we will spark it and call the rebels back to our fight,

the fight for our rights to die young,

forever young...

Intermission

Do you remember anyone who was able to sacrifice his/her freedom for you, for us, for a cause, for something?

Do you remember the last person who died for us?

anyone who saved you from suicide?

from the pains that drown you?

well, you are lost my child, cause there is no one but yourself to fight for, and you are strong, yet if someone has to tell you that, you are probably in pain, and pain is a friend that can teach you 1 or 2 things about life, and how to get back and fight back,
to fight back that oppressor, that mother fucker, that selfish instinct. as Lisbeth did, in a movie, as to remember us that we are our dreams and ideals, represented in images, transformed into memories, made blood and bones as one becomes them, for everyone else, with no more than a body, broken and vital, standing, vibrant, on fire, as a statue, as freedom, as equality as justice, because, well, you are fighting the moment for that, and that sacrifice is love. the engine of change.

Final Act

as we all know, we had to wake up and get our shit together and find the bread we all need, and maybe in the process kill the Lords of our oppression, and liberate our fellow bodies into a realm of peace and solidarity. nothing more than a heaven, a paradise, a sanctuary, in your twisted and fascinating endless movement of numbers, in a relative space with a changing time.

Nutcheck

A grinding, pushing, liberating group that can punch you in the face if you are not paying attention to the mosh pit, serious, if you are naive and can't handle the heat, a random punch will land in your face, and while those lights go out, Natalie's screams and attitue is gonna guide you, somewhere, to rise up from that fall, and become the energy they express. freedom, rage, mortality(yes, you bleed), existence...

 you are one of them.

and they wont stop until you become them.

a revolution,

a seed,

a burst of life.

growing back into that alienated heart.

Nutcheck.

with their movement, as their shield, those kids, those passionate kids are braking Miami's mundane bottle and within each shattered piece, a weapon, you, to cut those who mess around the vulnerable, for money, for greed or stupidity. they gonna kick your ass if you are just there to mock their territory, as any tribe would do.

check them at: 

https://nutcheck.bandcamp.com/album/dirt-wave-demo