Barren EP by Bonechurch

Lying wretched and abandoned in the mud, the oil-slicked, ice-cold rain spitting weakly from the blackened sky above. The dull throb of factory noise rumbling in the distance, the iron, sulphurous stink infused in the air above this wasteland, uncut by the downpour. Skeletal trees, stripped of life, stand as silent sentinels to the desolation, bare branches stretching desperately towards the unforgiving heavens. In this forsaken place, hope is a distant memory, swallowed by the relentless grey stretched endlessly in every direction.

Crafting DIY dark ambient, isolationism, noise, and experimental abstracts since 1999.

All physical orders include a Random Sampler of Machine Tribe Recordings releases.