This is from the first 100 run of our debut album Automation. This includes a full booklet of artwork and lyrics designed by Jordan Salmon.
Buy any two physical items, and we'll throw in a blue Mapmaker koozie! Keep em' guessin'!
Includes unlimited streaming of Automation
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
ships out within 3 days
Creation in absolution with a date to expire. We built them as a means to get there. This was their solution. Illusion. The Absolute was our solution, but was their fruition. Collusion. Recreating time and space around a body that is already familiar with its own nature. Showing signs of separation anxiety, already clenching onto its reality, but it slowly fades. It slowly fades. It seems in a past life I'm already familiar with where I am. Somehow I'm on instinct maneuvering through unknown spaces. Installation onto neocortex, body begins to reject. Carcass convulsing, red skin flaring, undulating readings, synapses collecting and distributing. At uncontrolled rates, eyes shoot wild. Uncontrolled rest and welcomed into a parallel plane. Ripping away at your reality, shreds of humanity fall from the skies, caressing the edge of existence and the space unknown. What is truly this deep feeling inside of me manifested by the loss of my destiny? A truly introspective feeling of lost clarity. Staring into the mirror and what looks back is only a bitter bleak reality, the edge of millenniums of hierarchy. Human sociology, anthropology peaked in one instance of an intelligent creation. Sent out in waves, set out to search and destroy, brought out in drones, reduced life to ash and bones. Collection complete, specimen received. Stored and organized in the main hive, downloaded into the system, archived. Individual reason brought together as one sentient machine to defy experience and create logic. Collected knowledge makes experience obsolete. Decaying land lays broken and dormant. Everything separate. We've built this world under the facade of machine. Chaos separated from self-manipulated spaces where we've lost control. Boundaries set in stone around me, forced captivity, existing alongside matter itself in a state of ultimate suspension. So much tension, suspended. Mentally reaching outwards, boundaries stretch to no avail. Where have I gone? What have I become? Where is this state of being? Clarity is brought into this reality. Clarity is brought into this mirrored edge. Scape of perfect design makes me doubt myself. Self-creation, self-modulation, manipulation, and exploitation of divine creation. Self realization. External and internal coexistence. As I come back and see myself past the edge, I reach and grab myself through myself, picking myself up from the pile where I lay, oozing upwards into my original form. Distraught, examining my physique. Controlled, organized, and directed, sectioned off in portions. Layered veins dig deep inside the earth, reaching out with limbs holding bodies dripping off the stems. Absorbed. Time churns beyond the living eye. Consumed. Thousands of years thrown by. Erased. The Absolute feeds on force of life. It suffers from human compulsion and a long enough timeline. The Absolute feeds on force of life. Accounted for, sampled, and supplied. Counted down just like sheep. Herded and prepared. Cower in terror as the new alpha feeds on your soul. Prying your very essence out of your being and absorbing your every thought. Anatomically unstructured, dry, decrepit, and left to rot.