The Pounding by Absimit

A rusted, shattered chaos machine thunders through the wreckage it has wrought—never ceasing, ever grinding forward. It devours the dust itself, harnessing it, and belching it back as black flame and rancid smog. This spastic dance of perpetual motion carves the earth, great scars laid across its face—yet the song continues: eternal, maddening, a crazed hymn to the unharnessed.

Additional distribution for collaborations with Machine Tribe Recordings artists as well as other musical adventurers we admire. Genre loyalists can see themselves to the door.

All physical orders include a Random Sampler of Machine Tribe Recordings releases.