Filmed by Steven Thomas. Edited by Stephen Muir.
Live In Chinatown
by Elder Devil
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You live below it all. In the land of bastard shrines and temples. Remove your eyes. Lick the spaces in between. Do you know why? Do you know why you carry hell with you?
Knives into eyes and flames under hide. Screams from one thousand maws. Spires of stone impale hopeless limbs and gouge out beating hearts. Millions more multiplied into infinity. Blood stains the sheets of time and space. Another drop in an ocean of regret. Another grain of sand on the shore of the river Acheron. What suffering. What pain eternal. What a way to die infernal.
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After Flesh (Live)
01:58
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Oh, great harmony! Of dancing planets and changing tides, I have answered nature’s requests and brought its proper tithes. All is here with this great earth, so fill your mouths with soil and pack your eyes with dirt. This great land, it whispers to me. Do you hear its hushed words clear as day? What began as mortal blood is so much more. You speak of flesh. What of bark? What is life without the cold and dark? Do you see this as a choice? I speak of an end to pain; I speak with no voice. I feel the end of suffering. I see the creeping blight. I smell each drop of spite. I have no need for sight. I touch cold blood in the night.
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Motherless Son (Live)
03:01
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Wandering the corridors of misery. Watching a loved one wither and die. Eyes once filled with comfort. Now gaze past me empty. I know about death. What do you know? I don’t want to move on. I don’t want to be happy. A son without a mother, a motherless son. Caught myself outside that room. Turned the knob to open the door. It sits quiet and still. An emptiness that can’t be filled. Take me instead. Let me go in her place, I begged. I held her ashes in my palm. I buried them at that tree. At the foot of the mountain. On that trail covered in snow. Down that dirt road. You don’t know loss. You don’t know.
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Riven by this insanity. Driven mad by this need to acknowledge. Disturbed by the sight of pointless memorials. Coerced by swaying masses. Believe in the hell beneath your feet, believe in the heaven above your head, believe in the divine forces that keep them apart, believe in the walking snake. What happens when the gates are torn from their hinges? What happens when the bastard souls ransack the land of light, painting their doors in the blood of the black goat, removing the eyes of those who gazed upon the Black Prince? Ask for it to be over. Pray to the dimming light. Pray to stop it all. Pray for a second salvation. Pray for forgiveness. Pray that He gives a damn. No one is coming to help. No one hears your cries. No one is listening. May the light be dimmed eternal. May you live forever in shadow.
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A first word on our vices. Deep and penetrating, this life we lead is nothing but sin. Surrounded by sin, baptized and paralyzed by sin. It demands a separation, a cleansing and renewal. It demands a land where winter frost touches lips before the ground; where the Sun’s warmth blesses skin with every summer’s day; where autumn’s purpose lies in her harvest; where spring brings forth a new beginning. We need these beginnings.
Fuck tradition. We need believers lined up for miles, striking out past the isles. Truth never rang in their ears so be gone their blasphemies. Crawl toward a new dawn, somewhere beyond their errant siren song. Baptize a new day in the mud that cakes our feet and keep walking so truth and civilization meet. May God stop what stains our sheets. Move beyond the individual. Come together, dear people so that similar minds may rid this filthy world. A new colony begun under the birth of not one bastard, not one spoiled blood, but one of pure meaning, soon to be weaning. Throw maps into the same mud that cakes our blackened feet. There will be no return to those lands. Cut at the wrist and sever spiteful hands.
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Trapped Animal (Live)
02:44
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My body lays still. Eyes closed. Shut tight. Light pierces this dark room. Never leave. What you can’t see. Nothing but ceremonies now. Nothing but remembrances of how. Nothing but hymns to hear. Nothing but ignorance and fear. These wounds flex and tear, spilling forth rays so bright. But that light is dim. And it burns out quick. Finally, dark. Cold and stark. My mind obsesses about the end. I am a wound that refuses to mend. These thoughts weigh upon me. I am an insect plucked of wings. We all die alone. I’ll stay in this place. A locked door. A life displaced. Free from grace.
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about
A live session recorded on October 22nd, 2021.
credits
license
all rights reserved
tags
about
Elder Devil Fresno, California
EVERYTHING WORTH LOVING out now on Prosthetic Records.
Stephen Muir | Vocals
Jacob Lee | Guitars
Pete Ruacho | Drums, Noise
Ryan Urquidez | Bass
discography
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Jun 2023 -
Dec 2022 -
Nov 2021 -
Jul 2021 -
Oct 2019 -
Feb 2019 -
Apr 2018 -
May 2017
contact / help
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