n0n

by The Amenta

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    The Amenta's second album, released in 2008 by Listenable Records.

    Recorded in seven studios in three different countries, and featuring six vocalists, two bass players and two drummers, ‘n0n’ is the most dense and meticulous extreme metal album you will ever hear. Guest appearances by Nergal of BEHEMOTH, Jason Mendonca of AKERCOCKE and Alex Pope of RUINS, among others, are subsumed into a claustrophobic maelstrom of sound. This is truly extreme music.

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1.
On 00:44
2.
Junky 04:56
Tumours, all of you. Parasites basking in the static of televisions. You are empty, sick and pale Under the flickering streetlights. Your voice is the chatter of radios And of white noise. Loudly saying nothing. You are a disease, Viral and stubborn. Shame, failure, slow decay. For all your struggle You have achieved nothing. Counting down to zero. Shattered wreck shivering In cool blue TV fire Amphetamine grit Living remotely Keeping so distant A fucking deadweight A life by proxy His retinas flicker with Stock footage of genocide Asleep at the wheel Coasting in neutral Psyche mirrored in A crash victim's fender Any detail blurred Indistinct and degraded This is the media junky Humanity's dry husk Incapable of abstract thought On/Off/On/Off This is the media junky Complacently numb Culture bought on credit A montage of random edits Nothing is sacred Everything is disposable The "truth" is a con Information is power Random fractured binary A "fact" is a selling point Everything too simple An advertising swindle In this red, rusted landscape Asleep at the wheel Coasting in neutral Psyche mirrored in A crash victim's fender Any detail blurred Indistinct and degraded This is the media junky Humanity's dry husk Incapable of abstract thought On/Off/On/Off This is the media junky Complacently numb Culture bought on credit A montage of random edits Nothing concrete All is plastic Media is the corpse And he is the vulture His nervous system A collage of school shootings And hospital waiting rooms Bloody pavements intersect Images of catwalk fashion Headline black bleeds into inkblots Suggestion shutdown His is a slow death This is the media junky Humanity's dry husk This is the media junky Humanity's dry husk On/Off/On/Off
3.
Vermin 04:02
Highly evolved? Origin of the fucking slave You are all voids Comfortable null You are animals Who claim to be human But you aren't trying To reach the ideal You are a primitive design Nothing but base urges A fight or flee reflex You are vermin A creature of impulse Fucking and feeding There is only reaction Divinity is nothing But a yearning beast A crude vessel Desiring refinement A primitive rat? Or a refined beast? All in the gutter We search for stars Nature cannot be rejected Cloistered and denied But it can be tempered In every futile struggle In everything out of reach In every distant goal There is something human You are vermin Nothing but a flawed Base rat An insect of Insignificance You don't have what it takes To rise You are vermin When it's all so aimless When there are no goals When there it's all just reaction There is nothing human When everything is thoughtless When it's all so aimless When there are no goals There is nothing human Think What do you consider important? What are your goals? Are you content? You can choose To be a pig in shit Or something almost human You are a primitive design Nothing but base urges A fight or flee reflex You are vermin A creature of impulse Fucking and feeding There is only reaction You are vermin Nothing but a flawed Base rat An insect of Insignificance You don't have what it takes To rise You are vermin
4.
Entropy 01:44
5.
Slave 05:11
No Division Between church and state. Policies spat from the pulpit. A godhead decrees On the stolen televisions of the junksick slums. This is a slave-cult Of a worm-race, A failed, stillborn intellect. Your leaders, Your (God)heads of state, Have ground you into dust. A media-infected age Disinformation. The Divine virus Force fed to parasites. The opiate of the masses, Mainlined, injected By a vacant, idle herd. A soul Sold on a ballot paper, Is a slave Driven by indolence. A soul Sold on a ballot paper, Is a slave Driven by indolence. You are all whores Carrying a binarial disease. You are all whores Carrying a binarial disease. Archangels of doublethink, Parliaments of a faceless elect. No triumph of the will When you worship the whip. This is your answer? A church of soulless husks? Flag waving blank faces. Flag burning masks. Every Jihad, every holy war, Is a political act. The new religion has martyrs. The new religion has saviours. The new religion Is forcing you down. So proud of a system? You are all hunched shoulders. Yearn for nothing. Signifying nothing. Down on your knees. A soul Sold on a ballot paper, Is a slave Driven by indolence. A soul Sold on a ballot paper, Is a slave Driven by indolence. You are all whores Carrying a binarial disease. You are all whores Carrying a binarial disease.
6.
Whore 04:55
I have seen the greatest minds Sedated and raped A generation of model citizens Selling to the highest bidder When everything stops And there is only ragged laughter left When everything is colourless and dull You will finally know You are empty and alone You have only yourself to blame Your weakness and fear You're a trapped rat Always searching for escape Everything you've ever wanted Denied to you You are a trapped rat Searching for escape You have only yourself to blame Your weakness and fear You're a trapped rat Always searching for escape I'll let you fall Back into the chaos Like a diving bell You're a fucking waste Failure Victim Acidic Malignant You're empty and flawed You've hit a social dead-end Redundant Submissive Shallow Vacant You whore We are all in the gutter But some of us look for the stars You have buried yourself in binary Where is your vision? You whore A world revolving in locked grooves Every pass drives the needle deeper Every day is another dollar And every dollar makes the walls much steeper Even a clock strives to stop Though time keeps ticking on You have chosen the void Everything repeating and cowering Even a clock strives to stop Though time keeps ticking on Product of an uncertain age No risk, no reward You have only yourself to blame Your weakness and fear You're a trapped rat Always searching for escape You could have been someone But you are a nothing Any personality has been degraded You have only yourself to blame Your weakness and fear You're a trapped rat Always searching for escape Rather serve nine to five Than reign in uncertainty You're a fucking waste Failure Victim Acidic Malignant You're empty and flawed You've hit a social dead-end Redundant Submissive Shallow Vacant You whore
7.
Spine 04:07
There is no strength There are only systems There is no belief There is only dogma No more spines Controlled by ambition Only buckled car bodies In which we are caged This sick new world This sick world trapped In buckled car bodies Asleep at the wheel Out of control Controls out of reach Always crashing In the same car Democracy is a faceless dictator It's branding erased In repeated collisions Under a tangled constitution A squat, squalid slave The scattered detritus Of a freeway culture There is no strength There are only systems There is no belief There is only dogma No more spines Controlled by ambition Only buckled car bodies In which we are caged A revolution Is just a zero It brings you right back To where you began Out with the old In with the new The only thing changing Is who holds the whip Peakhour traffic In static dead air Psyche mirrored in A crash victim's fender Every word brings Smells of burning oil We will all be Hunched shoulders Windows shut and Air recycled No direction No fucking spine We are in neutral Careening down steep streets Asleep at the wheel Out of control No one takes the wheel Just pretending to drive A new dummy Every time we crash Everything stuttering Towards zero No movement and no meaning This world is all Dimming headlights Billboards cluttered With empty rhetoric The futile chatter of A preprogrammed system There is no difference But there is a choice There is a shell But there is no spine
8.
Skin 03:24
The neon bruise on her cheek flickers on/off/on in the rain. On her thigh, there is a tattooed smear. She finds a vein in her ankle. Pull back. Under a tangle of freeway passes, a squat, squalid city. Derelict buildings huddled together for warmth, windows burn with cool blue TV fire. They all sell something down here. Sex, drugs, religion. They'll buy escape at any price. She squats in a peeling doorway, something childlike and explicit in the splay of her legs. From her tiny purse, she takes a cigarette and rolls it between her fingers. Buildings grow like weeds between drifts of broken stereos and refrigerator boxes. He steps towards her and offers a light. The gesture is familiar and as she stands, a coy smile twists her face, the cigarette casually held to hide her broken tooth. As they talk she smooths the pleated vinyl of her skirt. He draws her back into the doorway, out of the rain. The only moon over the city tonight is the crescent of bleached teeth on a billboard advertising salvation, at a high price. He steps towards her but doesn't offer a light. When he spits at her feet she recoils as if it has landed on her cheek. As he waves his fist she notices the stains on his teeth. She thinks they must have been retouched for the billboard. His teeth are the colour of derelict, rotten buildings. She says "At least I admit what I am". He spits again and walks away.
9.
Dirt 05:53
Every morning after Will be shades of grey All spotlight sunrise Or bruised sunset When the clock stops And everything is stale and still And the rust finally shows On everything we've gathered All of your plans All of your promises All those revolutions Your resolve All of your power And all your pride Will all be nothing Nothing but dirt In the end what remains? Not the body Nor forgotten hours Drowned in drink Our lives flicker The soul is just A collusion of senses It's just our deeds That see morning Bookended by black We are water dripping From leaking, rusted taps The sound of clocks Twitching through dust We are Flickering embers In dusty ashtrays We are the dirt We are just dregs We are water dripping From rusted taps We are dirt This is all we paint Blank canvas, blank canvas Humanity is aches Creaking joints Hunched shoulders Traces of blood on bed sheets Persistent benign tumours This is all we paint All of your power And all your pride Will all be nothing Nothing but dirt In the end what remains? Not the body Nor forgotten hours Drowned in drink Our lives flicker The soul is just A collusion of senses It's just our deeds That see morning Bookended by black We are water dripping From leaking, rusted taps The sound of clocks Twitching through dust We are Flickering embers In dusty ashtrays We are the dirt We are just dregs We are water dripping From rusted taps We are dirt
10.
Atrophy 01:47
11.
Cancer 05:22
A waxwork generation Replicas in studied generic pose The only change A softening of features Manufactured in factory conditions Is a perfect copy preferred To an imperfect original? A locked groove generation Every pass drives the needle deeper A revolution brings distortion Each closing vein blunts the needle Such pointless movement Everything redundant Remote culture symbolized By circling the drain This is the cancer generation A culture of the leech This is parasites grasping For ideals out of reach Cancer generation An age of soulless husks An age of rot An age of rust Cancer generation Ground to dust A reactive generation Slaves driven by stimuli No analysis, no thought This shallow cult Is the price of ease Cancer generation There is no way out Of this fucking tailspin The trap has sprung The human succumbs Meekly A counterfeit generation Every fake identical It's meaning faded And it's worth diluted A culture of parasites Drinking from the veins of another A culture of addicts A culture of fraud An era of sloth The deviant decorum Of the slowest of the herd This is the product of A lifetime of apathy A locked groove generation Every pass drives the needle deeper A revolution brings distortion Each closing vein blunts the needle Such pointless movement Everything redundant You built the bomb You built the bomb Now strap it on This is the cancer generation A culture of the leech This is parasites grasping For ideals out of reach Cancer generation An age of soulless husks An age of rot An age of rust Cancer generation Ground to dust
12.
Rape 06:53
So this is it, All of your plans. All of your desires, All your excuses, Void. Your dreams, Your pain, Your struggle? Redundant. You will always be what you are, What you've always been. Empty, unable to go back, Change or progress. You are incapable. Listen Plague rats You lice, you leeches You can no longer coast This media mind-rape Has ravaged unchecked Wake up Wake the fuck up parasites You could have been But you're nothing A fucking mixed breed Lazy fucking junk Just white noise in silence You are empty and null Symptom of A counterfeit generation Listen You addicts, junkies, slaves This cult of submission is Rusting your minds Your failing is Your binary reason On/off/black/white Wake up Choke it all down Keep those eyes open Accept every little bit Choke it all down Pretend you wanted this You want an answer? The answer is [word obscured] You want a savior? Try checking in the ad break You want redemption? You want a meaning? You want an answer? The answer is [word obscured] Listen You zeros, nothings, voids Your sullied heart beats on a sleeve smeared with dirt This cancer culture Is beaten and sick This coma culture Has a rotten Core In an empty Concrete room Vision Flickers Static

credits

released October 20, 2008

Recorded by The Amenta at NON Studios, Sydney.
Drums recorded at Red Planet Studios, Hobart
'Skin' -Drums recorded at The Gaelic Theatre, Sydney by Chad Halford.

Additional Recording at Production Avenue Studios and The Gaelic Theatr, Sydney by Lachlan Mitchell and Chad Halford.
Mixed by Lachlan Mitchell at The Vault Studios, Sydney.
Mastered by Steve Smart at Studios 301, Sydney.

Additional Vocals on 'Slave' by Nergal
Additional Vocals on 'Whore' by Jason Mendonca
Additional Vocals on 'Skin' by Sir Alice
Additional Vocals on 'Spine' by Nathan Wyner
Additional Vocals on 'Dirt' by Alex Pope.

Drums on 'Skin' by Nick Readh
Bass on 'Skin' by Nathan Jenkins

All Music and Lyrics Copyright The Amenta 2008

Jarrod Krafczyk - Vocals
Erik Miehs - Guitars, Bass
Timothy Pope - Noise, Samples, Keys
David Haley - Drums

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The Amenta Sydney, Australia

THE AMENTA was crudely welded together in the sickly dawn of a new millennium, Combining the uglier aspects of Black Metal, Death Metal, extreme Industrial and ambient Electronica, THE AMENTA soundtracks an era of rot, rust and ruin

The current line-up consists of:

Cain Cressall (Vocals)
Erik Miehs (Guitars)
Timothy Pope (Samples, Keyboards)
Dan Quinlan (Bass)
David Haley (Drums)
... more

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