Maggot Mass
Returning after a five-year hiatus, Pharmakon hammers industrial and punk influences into her rusted curtain of harsh noise on 'Maggot Mass', decrying the world's oppression and finding sustenance in the concept of regeneration.
I'm an animal, a voice states emotionlessly as 'Maggot Mass' grinds to a halt. "I'm destined by my biology to be a consumer, I must take from the world in order to live." Margaret Chardiet's fifth Pharmakon album, it's markedly different from its predecessor, 2019's dense, droning 'Devour'. This time, Chardiet veers more sharply from her established blueprint, using industrialised hardcore rhythms and structures to drill up a message of deep disgust with humanity. Harsh noise has always been somewhat misanthropic, but Chardiet examines the hierarchies that separate humans from the environment, pulling a sharp, broken blade over her discoveries in the process. She screams across twisted oscillations and turbid, oblique clattering sounds on the pitch-black 'WITHER AND WARP', contorting her voice and strangulating it to a hoarse croak over a blown-out bassline.
'METHANAL DOLL' is even more corporeal; peer into the blackened mass of metallic slams and distorted fuzz, and there's almost a song in there, led by Chardiet's phlegmatic assertions. "You will burn, down to ash," she snarls, spitting at contemporary life's disordered desolation. Squeezed thru a tremolo pedal, her screams take on a different character on 'SPLENDID ISOLATION', quivering as they snake around mossy, slow-motion bass rasps and oversaturated cracks. The foundation of power electronics - that she cut her teeth perfecting well over a decade ago - is still present, buzzing incessantly somewhere in the background, but this time Chardiet has more to say than the formula can handle.
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Returning after a five-year hiatus, Pharmakon hammers industrial and punk influences into her rusted curtain of harsh noise on 'Maggot Mass', decrying the world's oppression and finding sustenance in the concept of regeneration.
I'm an animal, a voice states emotionlessly as 'Maggot Mass' grinds to a halt. "I'm destined by my biology to be a consumer, I must take from the world in order to live." Margaret Chardiet's fifth Pharmakon album, it's markedly different from its predecessor, 2019's dense, droning 'Devour'. This time, Chardiet veers more sharply from her established blueprint, using industrialised hardcore rhythms and structures to drill up a message of deep disgust with humanity. Harsh noise has always been somewhat misanthropic, but Chardiet examines the hierarchies that separate humans from the environment, pulling a sharp, broken blade over her discoveries in the process. She screams across twisted oscillations and turbid, oblique clattering sounds on the pitch-black 'WITHER AND WARP', contorting her voice and strangulating it to a hoarse croak over a blown-out bassline.
'METHANAL DOLL' is even more corporeal; peer into the blackened mass of metallic slams and distorted fuzz, and there's almost a song in there, led by Chardiet's phlegmatic assertions. "You will burn, down to ash," she snarls, spitting at contemporary life's disordered desolation. Squeezed thru a tremolo pedal, her screams take on a different character on 'SPLENDID ISOLATION', quivering as they snake around mossy, slow-motion bass rasps and oversaturated cracks. The foundation of power electronics - that she cut her teeth perfecting well over a decade ago - is still present, buzzing incessantly somewhere in the background, but this time Chardiet has more to say than the formula can handle.
Returning after a five-year hiatus, Pharmakon hammers industrial and punk influences into her rusted curtain of harsh noise on 'Maggot Mass', decrying the world's oppression and finding sustenance in the concept of regeneration.
I'm an animal, a voice states emotionlessly as 'Maggot Mass' grinds to a halt. "I'm destined by my biology to be a consumer, I must take from the world in order to live." Margaret Chardiet's fifth Pharmakon album, it's markedly different from its predecessor, 2019's dense, droning 'Devour'. This time, Chardiet veers more sharply from her established blueprint, using industrialised hardcore rhythms and structures to drill up a message of deep disgust with humanity. Harsh noise has always been somewhat misanthropic, but Chardiet examines the hierarchies that separate humans from the environment, pulling a sharp, broken blade over her discoveries in the process. She screams across twisted oscillations and turbid, oblique clattering sounds on the pitch-black 'WITHER AND WARP', contorting her voice and strangulating it to a hoarse croak over a blown-out bassline.
'METHANAL DOLL' is even more corporeal; peer into the blackened mass of metallic slams and distorted fuzz, and there's almost a song in there, led by Chardiet's phlegmatic assertions. "You will burn, down to ash," she snarls, spitting at contemporary life's disordered desolation. Squeezed thru a tremolo pedal, her screams take on a different character on 'SPLENDID ISOLATION', quivering as they snake around mossy, slow-motion bass rasps and oversaturated cracks. The foundation of power electronics - that she cut her teeth perfecting well over a decade ago - is still present, buzzing incessantly somewhere in the background, but this time Chardiet has more to say than the formula can handle.
Returning after a five-year hiatus, Pharmakon hammers industrial and punk influences into her rusted curtain of harsh noise on 'Maggot Mass', decrying the world's oppression and finding sustenance in the concept of regeneration.
I'm an animal, a voice states emotionlessly as 'Maggot Mass' grinds to a halt. "I'm destined by my biology to be a consumer, I must take from the world in order to live." Margaret Chardiet's fifth Pharmakon album, it's markedly different from its predecessor, 2019's dense, droning 'Devour'. This time, Chardiet veers more sharply from her established blueprint, using industrialised hardcore rhythms and structures to drill up a message of deep disgust with humanity. Harsh noise has always been somewhat misanthropic, but Chardiet examines the hierarchies that separate humans from the environment, pulling a sharp, broken blade over her discoveries in the process. She screams across twisted oscillations and turbid, oblique clattering sounds on the pitch-black 'WITHER AND WARP', contorting her voice and strangulating it to a hoarse croak over a blown-out bassline.
'METHANAL DOLL' is even more corporeal; peer into the blackened mass of metallic slams and distorted fuzz, and there's almost a song in there, led by Chardiet's phlegmatic assertions. "You will burn, down to ash," she snarls, spitting at contemporary life's disordered desolation. Squeezed thru a tremolo pedal, her screams take on a different character on 'SPLENDID ISOLATION', quivering as they snake around mossy, slow-motion bass rasps and oversaturated cracks. The foundation of power electronics - that she cut her teeth perfecting well over a decade ago - is still present, buzzing incessantly somewhere in the background, but this time Chardiet has more to say than the formula can handle.
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Returning after a five-year hiatus, Pharmakon hammers industrial and punk influences into her rusted curtain of harsh noise on 'Maggot Mass', decrying the world's oppression and finding sustenance in the concept of regeneration.
I'm an animal, a voice states emotionlessly as 'Maggot Mass' grinds to a halt. "I'm destined by my biology to be a consumer, I must take from the world in order to live." Margaret Chardiet's fifth Pharmakon album, it's markedly different from its predecessor, 2019's dense, droning 'Devour'. This time, Chardiet veers more sharply from her established blueprint, using industrialised hardcore rhythms and structures to drill up a message of deep disgust with humanity. Harsh noise has always been somewhat misanthropic, but Chardiet examines the hierarchies that separate humans from the environment, pulling a sharp, broken blade over her discoveries in the process. She screams across twisted oscillations and turbid, oblique clattering sounds on the pitch-black 'WITHER AND WARP', contorting her voice and strangulating it to a hoarse croak over a blown-out bassline.
'METHANAL DOLL' is even more corporeal; peer into the blackened mass of metallic slams and distorted fuzz, and there's almost a song in there, led by Chardiet's phlegmatic assertions. "You will burn, down to ash," she snarls, spitting at contemporary life's disordered desolation. Squeezed thru a tremolo pedal, her screams take on a different character on 'SPLENDID ISOLATION', quivering as they snake around mossy, slow-motion bass rasps and oversaturated cracks. The foundation of power electronics - that she cut her teeth perfecting well over a decade ago - is still present, buzzing incessantly somewhere in the background, but this time Chardiet has more to say than the formula can handle.
Seaweed green coloured vinyl
Out of Stock
Returning after a five-year hiatus, Pharmakon hammers industrial and punk influences into her rusted curtain of harsh noise on 'Maggot Mass', decrying the world's oppression and finding sustenance in the concept of regeneration.
I'm an animal, a voice states emotionlessly as 'Maggot Mass' grinds to a halt. "I'm destined by my biology to be a consumer, I must take from the world in order to live." Margaret Chardiet's fifth Pharmakon album, it's markedly different from its predecessor, 2019's dense, droning 'Devour'. This time, Chardiet veers more sharply from her established blueprint, using industrialised hardcore rhythms and structures to drill up a message of deep disgust with humanity. Harsh noise has always been somewhat misanthropic, but Chardiet examines the hierarchies that separate humans from the environment, pulling a sharp, broken blade over her discoveries in the process. She screams across twisted oscillations and turbid, oblique clattering sounds on the pitch-black 'WITHER AND WARP', contorting her voice and strangulating it to a hoarse croak over a blown-out bassline.
'METHANAL DOLL' is even more corporeal; peer into the blackened mass of metallic slams and distorted fuzz, and there's almost a song in there, led by Chardiet's phlegmatic assertions. "You will burn, down to ash," she snarls, spitting at contemporary life's disordered desolation. Squeezed thru a tremolo pedal, her screams take on a different character on 'SPLENDID ISOLATION', quivering as they snake around mossy, slow-motion bass rasps and oversaturated cracks. The foundation of power electronics - that she cut her teeth perfecting well over a decade ago - is still present, buzzing incessantly somewhere in the background, but this time Chardiet has more to say than the formula can handle.
Out of Stock
Returning after a five-year hiatus, Pharmakon hammers industrial and punk influences into her rusted curtain of harsh noise on 'Maggot Mass', decrying the world's oppression and finding sustenance in the concept of regeneration.
I'm an animal, a voice states emotionlessly as 'Maggot Mass' grinds to a halt. "I'm destined by my biology to be a consumer, I must take from the world in order to live." Margaret Chardiet's fifth Pharmakon album, it's markedly different from its predecessor, 2019's dense, droning 'Devour'. This time, Chardiet veers more sharply from her established blueprint, using industrialised hardcore rhythms and structures to drill up a message of deep disgust with humanity. Harsh noise has always been somewhat misanthropic, but Chardiet examines the hierarchies that separate humans from the environment, pulling a sharp, broken blade over her discoveries in the process. She screams across twisted oscillations and turbid, oblique clattering sounds on the pitch-black 'WITHER AND WARP', contorting her voice and strangulating it to a hoarse croak over a blown-out bassline.
'METHANAL DOLL' is even more corporeal; peer into the blackened mass of metallic slams and distorted fuzz, and there's almost a song in there, led by Chardiet's phlegmatic assertions. "You will burn, down to ash," she snarls, spitting at contemporary life's disordered desolation. Squeezed thru a tremolo pedal, her screams take on a different character on 'SPLENDID ISOLATION', quivering as they snake around mossy, slow-motion bass rasps and oversaturated cracks. The foundation of power electronics - that she cut her teeth perfecting well over a decade ago - is still present, buzzing incessantly somewhere in the background, but this time Chardiet has more to say than the formula can handle.