FlameThrower EP + 2 Songs (ST3​-​001)

by Dead Channels

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1.
02:21
2.
3.
04:33
4.
5.
6.

about

Originally released as two separate demos in 2008, reissued on cassette and digital download in 2013 by Station 3 Records.

credits

released December 31, 2012

Dead Channels on these recordings is:
Angelo Mosca-Bass/Vocals
Matt Pardillo-Guitar
Phil DeGennaro-Drums
Chris Curtin-Guitar

Tracks 1-4 Recorded/Mastered by Jeff Rendano
Tracks 5 and 6 by Kevin Kumetz
Remastered for cassette by Matt Pardillo

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Station 3 Records

Lower NY based independent record label. Founded in 2012, we're just here to help. Not trying to be big, just consistent.

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Track Name: Solid State
though they came crawling, right on command, the weight was far to heavy to bare, when ruled by my hands – how, could you, expect, to fail. – it’s just one new page turned, in my book of old regrets, cause we’re still standing, reclaiming the reins when you lost grip. – how, could you, expect, to fail … you were always running circles round this dead end fucking town. – and you can tell, by the smell from, the back of the room, somebody’s bodies getting, chalk outlined tonight, cause it’s our time now man, I’ll be checking the obituaries everyday, please fucking die. – how , could you, expect, you’d fail , me.
Track Name: Butchers Hands
has empathy swallowed your taste for the flesh, laid the carnivore to rest to impress the opposite sex, who’s gonna want you now, now that you have gone so soft. – born with the butchers hands, you’ll die with the butchers hands. – and nothing can stop that now, are you so afraid, to stay the same, or are you just ashamed, who’s gonna want you now.
Track Name: Teleportland
captain of a paper ship, with an assembly of sailors dressed in white to the chin but never once taught how to swim, or play their instruments, but they stayed loyal like dogs to the captain and ship because they longed for the social acceptance.- (damn) we’re all, just as shallow as the water we drown in, how could I forget, everyone is so fucking deep and – nailed to their cardboard cross, a monument identical to a pile of shit, a record solely comprised of chug riffs, is that what your music is, a clever catch phrase sang over double bass buy a generation to you to shave. – we’re all, just as shallow as the water we drown ourselves in, how could I forget, everyone is so fucking deep end. – set for an early grave, playing music that’s as played out as this state, it would take more talent to dig a shallow hole, if you can dig it we can throw you in
Track Name: Worthless (Chain Woa)
your showing off your slit wrist scars but there facing the wrong way, your barely trying to die but they pity you the same, as another fashion victim in a fashion less cliché (but hey) - we all have our flaws, but I can’t count your hells – tomorrow pulls us in the ground and I don’t know which is worse, to sit through ten fake suicides or to stand find your worth, in your mind such hells to bare, but you never carried the working mans cross (and still) – we all have our guilt, but I can’t count your hells … how could you dare to cut so deep with a razor this dull from the night you lost sleep. And I will not bow to failure, we’ve already come so far, so I’m hanging on to who we were without forgetting who we are, I’m hanging on to who we were without forgetting what you are (worthless)
Track Name: Shape Shifter
we pulled all the stops out, though we may look the same, we shift like shadows, while you blink we change shape. – you don’t know what soul is, you just imitate the tone, while we practice signatures and scales, you play fake SG’s with painted nails- and it feels like the world, just closed the door in our face, and we walked right through the walls. - saw you crying over cover bands, we just came on stronger, so dry your fucking tears man, and give us some cover – they buried us, and it feels like the first time , they buried us, underneath everything, underneath, buried us, buried us, underneath everything, underneath. – you don’t know what soul is, you just imitate the tone, while we were out slitting throats babe, you were still taking notes on it.
Track Name: Strike a Poser
I look at you now, their new favorite star, all worn and burnt out, and then forgotten about. – style can’t be bought or sold, but if you wait in line you can keep what you stole , but you can’t keep what we own – cause your running out of time, before we call you bluff, so fold and fade out, now. – style can’t be bought or sold, but if you wait in line, you can keep what you stole but you’ll never take what we own.