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2. |
This Dark Hour, I Devour
06:10
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I am changing, my cells rearranging. This brand new beginning has me drooling while grinning. I cannot stop laughing at my misfortune, this new life that can’t be undone. This eternal life curse that I’ve won. Am I the only one who sleeps all day and has no faith to pray, no tears or fears for doomsday as I enter death’s gateway? No pulse, no breath, I’ve become death. No cares in this box with no air… is it a nightmare? No pulse, no breath, I’ve become death. No cares in this box with no air… is it a nightmare? Is this a nightmare… or, could it be a daymare? Sleep with the sun high and wake with the moon high. Sleep with the sun high and wake with the moon high. What wish was made on a star to bring that devil at this hour? Who was listening above and came to my aid as this dark dove? What wish was made on a star to bring that devil at this hour? I now devour. I now devour. I now devour. I now devour.
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3. |
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Shadows grow, reach for a foe. Darker than the ones I know, follow everywhere I go… oh no! They come to chase the light away. Their forecast is to bring decay. Hey, don’t look my way. Hey, don’t linger or stay. Hey, don’t look my way. Hey, I promise you, you won’t like the things I do. A thick black tar comes for me, and it’s something you won’t wanna see. So, don’t look my way… oh no. My blood runs pitch, my blood runs pitch, my blood runs pitch, black as tar. Here come the shadows.
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4. |
Time to Feed the Worms
04:16
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Is there another sky, ever serene and fair? Is there a brighter sunshine, as darkness fills my air. Never mind my broken shield on my bloody battlefield. Never minding how unwell, plagued by my white blood cells. Oh, woes me… I’m a slave, never to be free. It’s easy to see that this war has made me an amputee. Not another sky? I’ve been climbing with no reason why. Oh yeah… the sun gave promises of light. But, never ends the darkest night. Lose my will, I just might. The sun gave promises of light. A cure is no closer in my sight. The sun lied, lied about eternal light. Is there another sky? Is there another sky? Oh! Every path ending at a cliff’s edge. Every path ending at a cliff’s edge… oh no! I still feel the heat, pins and needles in my feet. I’m still feeling weak, tired of turning my cheek. Oh, never mind… bury me in this earth. Bury me… it’s time to feed the worms, time to feed the worms, time to feed the worms.
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5. |
Wizard of the Sand
03:31
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Oh, sleep is supposed to be—by all the souls of sanity—a complete shutting of the eye… but it never happens that way to me. Sleep is the station of the grand, but my slumber never meets no sand… just tears, as they blur my way,
as a realm I can’t command. I don’t understand why the wizard of sand never takes my hand. I don’t understand why the wizard of sand never takes my hand. Oh, I’m dreaming of dreaming. I’m dreaming of dreaming. But that man of old, he never takes hold, refusing to bring me rest. So I shiver with cold, no warmth of gold, a damaged nightmare of a mess. I’m a mess. I’m a mess. I’m a mess. I’m a mess... and, there’s no telling what I will do to make it through, no telling what I will do to make it through. Oh, I don’t understand the wizard of the sand, he never takes my hand… wizard of the sand. I don’t understand the wizard of the sand, never takes my hand, and I don’t understand!
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6. |
Vampyre
08:21
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Your aura and vision is what I need... I need, concede! Your blood (and energy) of which, of which, of which, oh… of which I feed. My flesh, it turns to ash as I
relive my past… over and over and over again. Just a husk of my former self. Onward, I last. Nightmares that entertain this dusty air and wolfsbane. No care of my lost fame… only their stare at my pain. Coffin bound, I’m a hellhound. Human remains all around me now… all around me now, beneath the ground. I’m beneath the ground, beneath the ground. Can you hear me now? Can you hear me now? Since water does nothing, nor oxygen too, no way to slake my thirst… nothing but you. Open your veins as you opened your heart. These nightmares have reigns... time travel. My art, oh, painting with blood is my art. So, open your veins, open your veins, as you opened your heart. Open your veins as you opened your heart. I am here under the ground… can you hear me? I’m under the ground, in a bloody box, bound… not a sound. Can you hear me? I’m under the ground.
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7. |
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Severe the head, oh, and maybe all will be fine. The queen of the damned showing up as planned, right on time… maybe all will be fine? She was invited—after all—to this event, but the fangs in her head imply that she is hellbent. Oh yeah. And we, ourselves, are the ones to blame. For, we chartered the dark ship on which she came. So many crates of her poisoned earth arrived in the hull to aid her birth… as the queen of the damned rose up and into this earth… yeah. As we moved about the ship, more crew members dead in it. Blood pooling on every deck, from every man’s neck. Oh, her blood lust for all of us, doomed to die or serve, each we must. Her blood lust for each of us, doomed to die or serve, each we must. Oh, we were not prepared for this ocean nightmare. And, now we’ve brought it to the land, all according to her plan. We were not prepared for this ocean nightmare. And, now we’ve brought it to the land, all according to her bloody plan. I still steer this tomb, the very last man, a part of her plan. I am a small part of her plan. I’ve come to understand… I have brought her from castle to coast. And, surely not to boast, but you’ll soon meet this deadly ghost. Don’t blame me, I’m just her host.
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8. |
Wellspring
04:54
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Inspired by George Gordon Byron’s “The Giaour”
Unquenched, I’m unquenchable. Around and within, thy heart shall dwell… unquenchable. Nor ear can hear nor tongue can tell the tortures of that inward hell. As your veins swell, the fear I smell, from my life sentence prison cell. This hell. This hell. As I’m immortal in this never-ending hell. I loathe the banquet I enforce, to feed on the living as a course. To exist, you are the wellspring, my most prized source. Thy victims, as they expire, shall know me as the demon for their sire… as they tire. I will roast what’s left, on pikes, above a most memorable funeral pyre… laughing like thunder, as the flames grow higher. Yet I’m still unquenchable, as it goes. I’m still unquenchable and everyone knows. My thirst, it grows. Oh, as the bloodbath I leave, it grows.
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9. |
Nosferatu Madre
03:19
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10. |
Under My Skin
06:07
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Becoming comfortable in this old skin. Growing used to what I live in. Become comfortable in this old skin. Growing used to what I live in. It’s not pretty, look away. In the darkest city, gaze away. Low brow life, look away. Filthy me, just look away. I’m getting hungry, you’d satisfy my thirst. I’m starving now, you wouldn’t be my first. Oh, you wouldn’t be, you wouldn’t be my first. Oh, you wouldn’t be, you wouldn’t be my first. Oh, you wouldn’t be my, my first… and not the last to quench my thirst. Now I have you in my web, right next to other dead. I’m the one under the stairs, the streets, under your bed. Disbelieve, but I’m also inside your head. I’ve been here since the dawn of time, all your fears wrapped up in such grime. Out of darkness I will climb to ring the “end of your days” death chime… your soul is mine. Your soul is mine… oh yeah. Now you’ll live in my skin, now you’re under my skin. Now, you’ll live within the terrible thing you’ve always been. Haha.
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11. |
Mirror of Truth
09:24
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Where did time go, I ask? It’s been slipping further from my grasp. Older, weaker, gone are the days of strength. Slower, angry, confusion at a greater length. Each day brings more strain, each one with new pain, struggle to get enough breath to hide from all this shame… when all this darkness came… oh. So, I’ve locked all passageways. No visits from loved ones or new strays. I’ve become numb and it might sound strange to some—might be the only one—to shy away from the sun… to shy away from the sun. Darkness come as I hide, though solitary life weighs a ton. It weighs a ton. It weighs a ton. Now, I’m older, weaker, gone are days of strength. Slower, angry, confusion at a greater length. Each day brings more strain, more pain, struggle with my breath to hide from all this, to hide from all this shame. I’ve become too numb and it might sound strange to some. I might be the only one to shy from the sun. Mirror, mirror, mirror on the wall, why can’t I see my face at all? No reflection of myself to see, with no reminder of who I use to be. Nothing left to judge each and every day. No fucking face as the wind blows me far away.
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12. |
The Road to Hell
04:13
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13. |
Sun Rise, Dark Hides
06:09
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I’m not ready. I’m not ready. I’m not ready. I’m not ready. I’ll not be defeated by the light. A thousand years hasn’t made this right. In all this time, not a glorious ray in sight. Shrouded in darkness, I’ll not lose this fight. But, here comes the sun. My final bloodletting has begun. My days in the shadows are done. The end, here comes the sun… here comes the sun. I’m not ready.
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14. |
Bela Lugosi's Dead
04:41
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15. |
Moon Over Bourbon Street
04:38
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16. |
We Suck Young Blood
06:33
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The Lumbar Endeavor
Heavy sonic and visual offerings by musician/vocalist Aaron D.C. Edge (of Process Black, Hellvetika, Bible Black Tyrant, Ramprasad) and soundscape/field recorder + illustrator André Trindade (CVSPE).
If you like The Lumbar Endeavor, you may also like:
Hidden History of the Human Race
by Blood Incantation
supported by 4 fans who also own “Vampyre”
never been a big death metal fan but this is actually super accessible for the genre, has fun concepts, and personally i'm always a fan of albums with short tracklists and huge runtimes (for individual songs) Great time, good jumping on point for newbies too.
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supported by 4 fans who also own “Vampyre”
Following the frustrated and erratic Wit's End, Prosaic reintroduces more of the devastating, crushing heavyness from the earlier Mizmor albums. From the first second to the last, this is unfathomably bleak death doom with enough heft to make your bones break and knock your teeth loose. It will drain all the colour from your surroundings, leave you with the feeling of having suffered several severe concussions during its runtime and either stir and reinvigorate your soul - or break it. Brutal.
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supported by 4 fans who also own “Vampyre”
Shame on me, I missed this for too long.. This is some dark blackened doom/sludge. The riffs are heavy as fuck and the vocals are creepy like the voice of the Witch-King of Angmar. These are the Wartunes of the Orcs.
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Featuring members of Noothgrush, Graves at Sea, and more, the Oakland metal band juxtapose cavernous doom with spaced-out shoegaze.
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featured on Bandcamp Radio Nov 10, 2023
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featured on Bandcamp Radio Oct 12, 2023
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