The Glitter of Putrescence

by Vinyl Cape

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Storm Gaza
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Storm Gaza So you got an abstract-lyrical rapper, a electronic music producer, and 2 hip hop producers to make a doom rap metal record. Sign me the fuck up for this masterpiece. Great fusion of many different genres. Favorite track: Small Hours.
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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Digipack CD of Vinyl Cape's first full-length record 'The Glitter of Putrescence' on Milled Pavement (MP064). Art by Stacy Howe.

    Includes unlimited streaming of The Glitter of Putrescence via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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      $10 USD or more 

     

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $8 USD  or more

     

  • Chthonic Youth Camp '99 T-shirt (OUT OF STOCK)
    Cassette + Digital Album

    **THIS IS NOT A CASSETTE. IT'S A SHIRT.**

    Chthonic Youth Camp '99 T-shirt w/digital preorder. Art by Stacy Howe, Design by VC.

    Includes unlimited streaming of The Glitter of Putrescence via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

    Sold Out

  • CD & T-Shirt swag pack (OUT OF STOCK)
    Cassette + Digital Album

    **THIS IS NOT A CASSETTE. IT'S A T-SHIRT AND CD**

    Vinyl Cape's first full-length record on Milled Pavement (MP064), Chthonic Youth Camp '99 t-shirt, button/sticker swag and digital preorder. Art by Stacy Howe.

    Includes unlimited streaming of The Glitter of Putrescence via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

    Sold Out

1.
V1 Beaten with a walking stick ripped from a tree kissed twice by lightning Chosen to reign supreme over Vinland as Don Quixote’s doppelgänger a fearful act of torture every time the tablet opens Quite out of proportion with it's relative unimportance "jouissance" happens in some other theater of cruelty certainly not here Phantasmagoria of the banal outfitted for nosebleed stadium seating These are but illusions dancing onstage, immaculate chicanery The strings and levers are operated by the moving image of Lon Chaney We're all animated pictures envisioning a sustainable hustle Caravaggios of the mp3, cheering Ahab pursuit uncorrupted Trade one albatross for a few pigeons + more attractive vultures It's a pleasure to be your entertainment in the last days of culture CH There were places you wanted to go But tread ever so lightly here We urge you paint along to this death by numbers V2 Hoist the disappointments up the battlements in place of heraldry Let yesterdays heroes fall swifter than ergot scythed wheat in an expanded today we lay claim to progress's basement, half-flooded When nobody hears this I'd spread vitriol wide on the North-winds I can admonish from the pulpit and let evolution stand up straight But more profitable to be complicit and pour the ashes in a communion (cup) much more compassionate than the last wastrel's prophetic outburst Just as urgent and noteworthy a pyrrhic victory for content My shadow will always tower above my tractioned battered ego But my narcissism will outlive these fair lichens by a landslide documented My hands are the tools bestowed by better than a euphemism My standards and taste rendering 99 % of so-called commodities useless Pageantry of the inquisition's parade marching on your town Blacker flags funereal dress and the advanced humor of savages I will speak with authority, all the conspiracies are true. This is the keystone we've been shaping since recently misspent youth CH There were places you wanted to go But tread ever so lightly here We urge you paint along to this death by numbers
2.
The Tillinghast’s tale of a barren orchard Sunken eaves and mildewed gables Rotten fruit + empty wombs Decaying stables a hollow foundation in white Birch Fitting prelude to a pine home resting Historical Cemetery 14, a stone hill on Benefit St. Religious freedom blooming in the field to provide The wasting to your eldest 1st , a slow confounding Until she passed and left a silhouette in the vernal earth Thinner with time, the lines that streak your face Mercies are Thine to share, a flock of moving shapes Magic lantern theatre , awestruck amazed When the rats descend upon your house in droves, won’t you bring out your dead We’ll gather around the mound and ingest dirt This is the cure for the last several trees As if anointment in stale blood from caved chest could not be enough Leave me facedown and Jolly-Rogered, we can make it a spectacular showing She came calling to visit this was our rosy angel of disease She sits on my chest at night makes it hard to breathe, one by 1 Unsewn seeds, uncanny secretions She’s gone with the worms, each one turned to pirouette The barren orchard decides / which fruit will die in the vine The Tillinghast’s tale of a barren Orchard Sunken eaves and mildewed gables Rotten Fruit _+ Empty wombs Decaying stables a hollow foundation in white Birch Fitting prelude to a pine home resting Historical cemetery 14, a stone hill on Benefit St. Religious freedom blooming in the field to provide The wasting to your eldest 1st , a slow confounding Until she passed and left a silhouette in the vernal earth
3.
CH: burning bush to cleanse putrefied, vacuous The feces in your words The cesspool of this world I give this to you You earned this hell in full I’m laughing in your grave Your tears in wine washed away V1 Buoyed by salt and filth Blown by ash and dust Tossed by waves of erotasia Shrieking little urge (we) need to feel, validated A fanatical offering A platter of special needs 8 billion ingrate asses to feed Ch burning bush to cleanse putrefied, vacuous The feces in your words The cesspool of this world I give this to you You earned this hell in full I’m laughing in your grave Your tears in wine washed away V2 A sphere of trash, seen from space A blue and green drop spins on 3rd plot from the sun Connect the stars to navigate We’ll rape tomorrow anew
4.
V I And now for our big commercial break- Loving the crater because you crawled from it and it gave a sullen familiarity Family of dust and dinosaur bones to relate what the future earned Trade it all in for some smallpox blankets and the comforting touch of nettles and broken glass. Pick the shards out and name them make a constellation of the porcelain multiverse And come back home to tell us all about it We’re waiting with baited stale breath and wondering when your epiphanies will cease to be excruciating #.2 pencils. Stuck in a cubicle ceiling These are hits, because what else will make sense in the apocalypse? CH Chthonic youth bleeding through Tenure in salt-mine bathed in crude Baited blues blackened tooth Sordid truths ritual abuse V II A grave with benefits, make a reservation and cut coupons Incinerate the rest and live in Steve Jobs’ sexy 4th world utopia, taking tongue out of Adam Smith’s ass when at last appropriate. Everything will be clean soon. Clinical and cold and inviting and convivial to all but germs and steel Let’s dance on the altar to expedite extermination I’m not espousing negativity, this a carefully crafted contingency plan And other useless machinations after FEMA deploys magnetic pulse weapons Very little would be left to save if we reversed tide and polarity at this nanosecond This island earth, this cesspool Eden This fallout shelter crowded and reeking of slippery flesh CH Chthonic youth bleeding through Tenure in salt-mine bathed in crude Baited blues blackened tooth Sordid truths ritual abuse
5.
Small Hours 04:41
6.
7.
V I Your veins stiffen because we are aiming for flawless preservation Mary shelley overdriven recapitulating cold white flesh I’m back to Oak Grove, back to Tripp’s funeral home I’m the laughter against medicine and the icey breeze off the cove Preponderance of fluids soaking clinical surfaces Disinfected, cleaned, and powdered for observance The glitter of putrescence beckons the parlors custodians Abject undercurrent, arrived in similar immolation The finest fabrics and oaken containment hand-picked From a showroom of options deemed affordable by surviving bickerers They will pick over bones and carrion in a metaphorical sense Gut your worldly possessions and seek to carve off remaining friends This is always a caterwaul of avarice, drowning out lamentations We ride…we ride in style…wrapped in grey, bathed…in lunar light memorize these grotesque patterns, tear-stained and mildewed, and praying they change (X2) V II The last ride in a station-wagon, regardless or worldly station A quieted stone garden of unearthly delights beyond Disney The qulippoth have replaced your loved ones with a plastic sheen These latex gloves protect from biological waste of all-to-human We would not want to offend with the odors of the pedestrian taste We knew him well, or she was an odd sort of outlier Tell a tale of yesteryear un-darkened by inevitability This is not a punishment every untold tale is tidied up in the same manner Insurmountable exit to stage left the drapes roped off like dead cells His hero is gone and now a stiff’s retinue corrals for comfort Dusty pink tissue and soft organ in a distant room reminding A splinter in neural tissue lasting all remaining days Purple flags with silver crosses a heraldry for lost causes
8.

about

Written, produced and recorded between June 2014 and July 2016.

credits

released September 23, 2016

*** IF YOU'RE LOOKING TO DOWNLOAD OUR RECORD, PLEASE GO TO AMAZON, ITUNES, DEEZER OR MOST OTHER DIGITAL MUSIC PROVIDERS; WE ONLY DO PHYSICAL MERCH & STREAMING THROUGH BANDCAMP. HERE ARE LINKS:

amzn.com/B01K7WMQAM
goo.gl/Z7rryF (sptfy)
goo.gl/AA3nkI (itns)


PERSONNEL :

BRZOWSKI⼁VOX, GUITAR & BASS ON VIII
C$BURNS⼁GUITAR, BARITONE GUITAR, BASS, KEYS, BACKING VOX ON I & IV, PRODUCTION
MO NIKLZ⼁TURNTABLES

JANE BOXALL⼁DRUMS ON V & VII
RENEE COOLBRITH⼁BACKING VOX ON VI & VII
ANGUS McFARLAND⼁GUITAR SOLO ON IV

RECORDED, MIXED AND MASTERED BY C$BURNS AT COSMIC BLACK, PORTLAND ME

DRUMS RECORDED BY MARK RUBEL AT BLACKBIRD STUDIOS, NASHVILLE TN

CUTS RECORDED BY MO NIKLZ AT MO'S MURDER MANSION, DANBURY CT

VOX/SOLO ON 7; VOX, GUITAR & BASS ON 8 RECORDED BY BRZOWSKI AT EASTERN CEMETERY PICNIC GROUNDS, PORTLAND ME

JANE BOXALL PLAYS AND ENDORSES VIC FIRTH STICKS & DISTRICT DRUM CO. SNARE DRUMS. FIND MORE JANE AT JANEBOXALL.COM

ANGUS APPEARS COURTESY OF HIS OWN BAD SELF. CHECK OUT HIS BAND HESSIAN HERE: hessian-music.bandcamp.com

ART BY STACY HOWE AT STACYHOWE.COM

LOGO BY BRET WEESE AT CHAOSARTDESIGNS.COM

DESIGN & LAYOUT BY C$BURNS

RELEASED ON MILLEDPAVEMENT.COM RECORDS MP064

© & ℗ 2016 COSMIC BLACK LTD (ASCAP)/NEW ENGLAND GOTHIC VINEGAR WORKS (ASCAP)/MILLED PAVEMENT RECORDS ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. HAIL SATAN!

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Vinyl Cape Portland, Maine

Post-Rap Doomwave/Nihilist Power Sleaze band from New England featuring Brzowski, C Money Burns and Mo Niklz

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