I have been obsessively listening to this for weeks. Need I say more?
Satellite Sleep’s three song demo pornographically tingles the same cerebral nodules that make me excited for Christopher Nolan’s Inception. It’s a twisty bit of emotionally draining crusty punk transcendence that serves damning notice to all the lesser punk bands out there content to lazily Xerox hardcore clichés that they’re about to get lapped.
Through three songs of deliberately paced crust in the vein of Trap Them, completely with desperately howled vocals and the claustrophobic atmosphere of Amebix or Damad, Satellite Sleep reminded this cynical fuck of why he loved punk so much as wee laddie.
The watery, somnambulistic production on the demo gives Satellite Sleep a hypnagogic vibe that’s wonderfully surreal and stunningly evocative. “Empty” rings out from the precipice of some emotionally devastating abyss as the guitars and cymbals crash through a barren musical wasteland. The naked anguish and emotional violence of “Cold Womb” builds to a blastbeaten catharsis and a wasted, spent and, moreover, inevitable entropic breakdown in an emotionally taxing 4:43. Bringing up the rear, the band’s eponymous final track clangs with a resigned air, raging against a cage the band seems intent on refusing to even acknowledge, drillbit bass hacking at the lock in a display of willful, impotent defiance.
Download. Now. And bother every label person you know until somebody signs these kids.