Magnetshore by Saltspeed

So, "Magnetshore." It’s not just a collection of songs we slapped together. This album… it’s what came out of living here, on Titan Station, watching the Aurora Fields burn holes in the sky. We’ve been stuck between these magnetic poles long enough to know the sound of radiation poisoning, the way gravity just decides to bend sideways sometimes. It grinds on you. But you also learn to listen.

When we first started messing with our gear, tuning the Geiger counters to the Aurora's pulse, the melodies that came out were… unexpected. Less about music, more about translating something elemental. Those crackles you hear at the start of tracks like "Static Horizon"? That's not just some effect. That's raw electromagnetic interference, pulled straight from our instruments. It's the station’s own voice, our signature. We didn’t just play surf riffs over doom; we tried to play the station’s hum, its shiver, its furious, beautiful outbursts. It's an instrumental odyssey, born from the constant, unsettling beauty of this place.

The whole thing, it follows a kind of arc. It starts with that initial isolation, that feeling of being completely lost when "Gravity Bends" and compasses just spin wild. You get that creeping madness in "Aurora Fever," the way the toxic greens and burnt oranges here can get under your skin and into your head. But then, there are those rare moments, those "Radio Silence" windows, when the static clears, and you can almost hear something from outside, something that reminds you of home. That longing, that ache for connection in the void, it’s woven into every distorted note.

The core of it, the "Magnetic Anthem," that's us trying to grasp those fleeting moments when everything aligns. It's a raw, powerful feeling, finding a strange kind of unity even when the forces around you are trying to pull you apart. We wired our instruments with tesla coils, letting the electricity arc between them, making each performance something unpredictable, something visceral. It’s the sound of finding belonging in the chaos, of building a sanctuary out of the very radiation that fills our lungs, like in "Radiation Lullaby," which somehow just becomes… normal. Even comforting.

And then, the build-up to a "Solar Storm Warning"—that frantic rush, the terror, and the strange, blinding clarity that comes right before things go completely dark. It’s a gamble, always. But by the end, with "Drifting Home," you just… accept it. This perpetual drift, this weird, radioactive twilight, it becomes home. Not the home we left, but ours now. We think this album captures that transformation, that strange peace found in a world untouched by human comfort. It's not some polished story with a neat ending, because out here, there isn’t one. It’s just us, the hum of the station, and whatever sounds we can wring from the static. We think if you listen close enough, you’ll hear what it’s like to truly crave something, and then find it in the last place you’d ever look.

Born from corroded amplifiers and salt-crusted guitars, Saltspeed crashes brutal riffs against crushing metal foundations. Three musicians channel radioactive surf through distorted tubes, creating instrumental chaos that gallops like radiation storms. Each track crackles with authentic electromagnetic interference.