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Bleach For The Stars Harwich, UK

Grotesque post-industrial noise, obsidian atmospheres of despair & holocaustic avant-garde poetry accompanied by one of the nastiest vocal deliveries ever haemorrhaged out of a bleach-corroded throat.

There’s no humour in this, just the cold of an Eastern gallows, bitter as all dead love.

Blood-shod; hauling a bergen of skinned dreams up the raw foothills of Gehenna... and towards catharsis.
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