An all-instrumental barrage of down-tuned guitars, detuned morale, and riffs big enough to block out the sun. Type 41 welds doom’s slow-crush weight to post-rock crescendos and lets the feedback sprawl like cracked asphalt. Drums march, amps growl, and every chord feels like a concrete slab sliding into place—yet melody still claws through the rubble, humming with afterglow.
Perfect soundtrack for empty car parks, late-night soldering sessions, or contemplating the heat death of optimism.
A slightly strange individual
An obsessive compulsive maker of noise
Likes noise and dissonance and thinks there should be more of that in his work
Likes harmony and melody and thinks there should be more of that in his work..
Isn’t sure yet how the previous two statements fit together…