Get all 8 Necropanther releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Oblivion Jones, Betrayal, In Depths We Sleep, Et Unyttig Liv, The Doomed City, Oppression, Eyes of Blue Light, and Necropanther.
1. |
The Denver School
04:02
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Paint on the screen;
Display, reckoning.
Queen of the plains,
Neal and Larry and Jack
Used to laugh at the way
Gesture itself and
The thing that it leaves
Is all I have to say.
Painting will spill out the truth,
Brush against the critics and cringe.
Distrust, disgust, and the stroke
Upon which so much depends.
Taos can go to hell.
Bright streets work just as well.
Left Madeline and the kids
(I guess I loved) back in Baltimore.
Needed my time; so much to say,
It remains unsaid.
Disappointed parents and teachers.
Opportunity and talent spent.
How much does “legendary fixture” earn,
Enough to pay my rent?
It’s a joke, it’s privilege, it’s agony.
Smeared on the fabric, glistening gray.
[Solo: Johnson]
[Solo: Jones]
“His youthful work was more vibrant,”
I hear them hissing in the dark.
“The best is behind him, gone away.”
Like a drain pipe
Eroding everything
As it flows.
Loitering in the grimy cowtown streets
By My Brother’s Bar.
I’m a leonine, lupine, feral
Wraith of the wild. Pale facsimile,
Protean haunter of coffee shops, bore.
I drank deep,
Now it leaves me dry.
What did the Pierian
Spring teach me?
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2. |
The Transported Man
11:27
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When I die, severing this thread,
You don’t know what I made?
Marks like talons scratched into the earth
Where each rabbit left the clay.
Why(att)?
Why did you punish the child?
Why did you flee from me
That sometime did me seek?
Only, “noli me tangere.”
Each dawn we’re born into the field.
Each night brings the beak of the owl.
We must imagine, trembling, the rabbit’s fear
And abide in the hunger we bear.
[Solo: Corich]
[Solo: Johnson]
I don’t owe you
Anything as I die.
Say what you have to say
And get the hell out.
[Solo: Johnson]
[Phasing: Johnson]
Death is a career move.
“The paintings are worth more now.”
(It’s supply and demand.)
…But no one wants to go today.
[Solo: Johnson]
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3. |
First Friday
04:02
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“Look at his work
Arrayed on the wall.”
“Here is the artist,
Come shake his hand.”
“Nevermind you where,”
“Simply incredible!”
“From Denver you say?”
“…Dazzlingly grand.”
We’ve preserved your sorrow
To use in art again.
Your children’s pain
Is an asset for tomorrow.
The flats where the owners
Keep rows of Leonardoes
And sometimes bend an ear
To the ways the vintage vans go.
The adventurous among them
Find an unimagined sum,
A secret history presented in a chip,
And print a replicant from it.
Sing O Muse!
It’s your big debut.
There is hell to pay
On First Friday.
Experimental helicopters, tanks, moats, and krewes.
Dracula, Jay Gatsby, and Zelda live there too.
Razors, guns, crackpot ill behavior rages. Reams
Of writers, singers, dancers, actors, cocktails, and dreams.
Vonnegut smokes in the
most convenient chairs.
“A dignity in labor,”
4-year lifespan, pal.
Sing O Muse!
It’s your big debut.
There is hell to pay
On First Friday.
[Solo: Jones]
Out in the alley
Behind the gallery
Clouds catch the light
Of an impassive moon.
Ad astra per austerita.
The music of the spheres:
Truth is beauty, and beauty is truth.
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4. |
Thrash Till Death
04:24
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Where will you go?
You can never run away.
Stepping out like a wolf,
Ravenous, but never free.
Leave me by myself,
Turned out like everyone else.
I’ve got my knife
(and if that’s all, it ain’t so bad).
It’s not enough to live,
It’s not enough to die
In the dusty attic room
(and if that’s all, it’s just too bad).
From the day that you were born,
The emptiness inside,
The world could never satisfy your scorn.
The beauty and the ugliness,
Hypocrisy and greed,
It seems that life is just a puppet show.
When food has lost its taste
And words are just a waste,
Out into the night,
You’ve got to own it.
Put your blood upon the altar,
Burn it in the crucible.
Offer up the spirits of rage,
You’ve got to thrash!
Don’t give up,
Don’t give in.
Thrash till death
And stay rebel till you die.
Never give up, never give in
That’s how you die.
[Solo: Johnson]
Don’t give up,
Don’t give in,
Never give up, never give in.
Thrash till death
And stay rebel till you die.
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Necropanther Denver, Colorado
We are NECROPANTHER. Short, thrashy death metal songs from a dystopian future. Denver,
Colorado.
Paul Anop: Guitar, Vocals
Marcus Corich: Bass, Vocals
Joe Johnson: Guitar
Haakon Sjogren: Drums
PRESS INQUIRIES:
Liz Ciavarella-Brenner at EARSPLIT PR
liz@earsplitcompound.com
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