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Live at Supra Sound Studios

by Flesh Eater

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  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.
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  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 7 Flesh Eater releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of komfortzone, Alive at Fred Fest, Elefantenrennen, Live at The Ballroom Nashville, extinguisher / tinnitus, contingent, and Live at Supra Sound Studios. , and , .

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  • Limited Edition Live Cassette
    Cassette + Digital Album

    You see that font on the spine¿ it was crafted from the raw meat of an actual Nashvillian Cow; We've been drooling over these for days - get 'em while they're still hot¡

    these are remastered for cassette tape by Our own Mastering Engineer; each is dubbed at normal speed for highest possible quality from the high-bias mother copies; this edition consists of 25 copies

    Includes unlimited streaming of Live at Supra Sound Studios via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

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1.
2.
oh my god – when you walked in after me minutes after, I couldn’t handle it. oh my god – then I followed after you, got a look at you, got a look at you. long eyelashes and blue eyes: you can’t disguise. you’ve got that Aryan fog about you; a light surrounds you; you glow. we’ve got similar thought processes. cat-like attention grabbers long eyelashes and blue eyes: you were right; I won’t survive. now, I sit behind you watching you; I cannot see your face. wonder what the changes are after years… when I go to sleep, twitching and shaking shaking all the time
3.
edema 03:34
what happens when you can see everything that you’re doing, such that the weight of things always is displaced like fluid? the liquid is bitter and fills up my lungs, and I cough, and it doesn’t work. the room I’m in explodes me on the walls in kaleidoscope vision, and I’m everywhere around me at once. I wanna take you out on a proper date; I wanna half-drown with my arm around you in the pressure-chamber; I wanna wake up from the dark mass without you– I’m not ditching you. I’m ditching you. is my vision too pointed? am I so open that there’s no room for you? I’ve been in the attic twisting up your callbox so fervently that you’re not moving, or you are, and I just can’t see you I wanna take you out on a proper date; I wanna half-drown with my arm around you in the pressure-chamber; I wanna wake up from the dark mass without you running home. I want you to know, no matter how you look in a picture, you are always beautiful.
4.
Cancerbeast 05:21
government like a cancerbeast: “you’ve got what I need,” and a few emotional X-Files episodes later… I’m so tired let it go you scrape the skin – rather, it scrapes you you’re only scratching the surface. you’ve got to get to the organs; you’ve got to rip out the heart. it did not believe in you; it will continue doing as it do. it must be destroyed; you must be sure you’ve got the heart, though, or whatever parasite’s inside controlling, and spare the host. pale green lumpy mass black-green high-pitched chirping when bees swarm in my brain, I smoke them out; when spiders crawl on my skin, I poison them. but now, I don’t have these things; I’ve no control, so now I’ve got to figure out my own system. who is it that said it?– but I’ll say it again: “The brightest lights are in the darkenss.” the highest flights are when you’re grounded. what flames can induce pills can’t undo little compression holding it in can’t contain explosion’s enigmatic rambling interdimensional massless form whatever inside me that makes me me, you know, me, is unidentifiable, as unidentifiable as the antity within me that causes this unrest and keeps me on my toes, able to keep making the wrong decisions (but also the right ones). she chose a normal day, and Scully holds a bone-saw. government like a cancerbeast: “you’ve got what I need.” you scrape the skin – rather, it scrapes you you’ve got to get to the organs. you’re only scratching the surface; you’ve got to rip out the heart. you’ve got to destroy the fucking heart, and it’ll look up with those big eyes: it’ll say, “Hope in me; believe in me.
5.
Stylops 03:14
I wanna go to this place where the sheets are shinier, where there aren’t snakes at my feet at night. yeah, I wanna go to this place. what a terrifying prospect: to lose control of one’s mind. or what a terrific release: to be freed of my kind. when what’s inside of you turns outward, and it occupies your body now, and nothing you know can stop it, and you know it will destroy you, it is practical to listen it is practical to slow down it is practical to action it is not something that is practical anyway, haha
6.
my skin is translucent; through it, in the pathways, like proteins, my soul mingles with the air particles like the lingering vapor that spilled from your green lips and settled into my hair as we walked through the walmart. my eyes are translucent; through them, I make contact with everything ever now, and the obstructions between me and horizon shape a vignette, and I remember that I was here. I’ve been here. because I walk, the pavement is unreceiving; it is porous, and I cannot get through; it even seems to reject my soles. now, I am upright, and inside the water swings as a child would when they went as high as possible and landed with a thud. stopped, fell, caught breath, jumped back on because I walk, the pavement is unreceiving; it is porous, and I cannot get through; it even seems to reject my soles, as now I stand facing a mausoleum built to house but a few years. from the sidewalk, my ears are numb and wiggle with the wave of that still room’s door which white-washes the yelling from the living room, bridge, island, foyer, tumbler, den, master, ball I sit above the mancave where the money disappeared, a black hole from when his name became hers because she was his. the collapse of a Self into inevitable ¿¿¿ I, then of green lips, could not, when I sensed the color peeking through the pink flesh, continue further, for your influence – the haunting spectreface on a beam in the wing – reminds me not to say “I’m godly,” not to become the picture I always change every day, so that I’m not stuck wanting to constantly fuck myself (over)

about

recorded live at Supra Sound Studios, April 2016

credits

released February 3, 2017

Zwil AR - lyrics, vox, R3
John Ottenlips - guitar
Marc Greenspon - minilogue
Max Zikakis - bass
Paul Daleo - drums

recorded and mixed by Samuel Bernhardt
mastered by Zwil AR

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Flesh Eater Nashville, Tennessee

the Flesh Eater is the dark mass growing ever larger, pressing against Your diaphragm, scuttling on the inside of Your skull; It gnaws through till It is seen; let It out

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