EP

by Smaragos

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1.
01:36
2.
07:01
3.
02:37

about

Official Facebook Fan page:
www.facebook.com/smaragos
Merchandise:
www.smaragos.com

Constructed in the summer of 2010, Smaragos is a two-piece exploration of avant-garde cacophony. Partners in progressive, technical death metal giants Son of Aurelius, project architect Max Zigman and vocalist Riley McShane bring together influences ranging from the heaviest of heavy music to the most sublime of compositions of the last 700 years. Zigman assembles the mixture as both musician and studio engineer with exquisite attention to the details of recording, programming, mixing and mastering. McShane's vocal stylings help define the musical and lyrical themes of the Smaragos sound.

Released on March 29, 2011, the self-titled E.P. Smaragos also invites the talents of Ivan Munguia (Brain Drill/Arkaik), Alan "Sitar" Brown, and Michael De Martino to contribute to a sum that truly is greater than its parts.

"Blunt force trauma and whiplash-inducing schizo-shifts...an emphasis on musicianship and a willingness to try all sorts of wacky things...Some of the synth-y stuff makes me think of Faith No More at their heaviest (e.g., “Jizzlobber”)" ---- Metalsucks.net

credits

released March 29, 2011

Max Zigman - Bass, Guitars, Programming
Riley McShane - Vocals, Lyrics
Ivan Munguia - Guitar Solo on "Scaphist"
Alan 'Sitar' Brown - Sitar
Michael DeMartino - Tablas

Recorded by Max Zigman

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Max Zigman Santa Cruz, California

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Track Name: Primordial
A depiction of the future
Of the entirety of our kind;

Of our disease:
On the cusp of circulating
Swirls of
space
Appears a concentration of decay;
A wasted
constellation frame.
In this morgue of stellar forms

The planets are cremated into worms.
Mutated and
deformed,
They spur themselves forward
To the writhing
dirt.
Dismissed to audience themselves;
To view from
inches away, the stage
Upon which their fate is played

Like strings tied at the base
To tear the wings off of

The remained figures.
Track Name: Furnace
The brain unravels these hallows.
Reality ceases as
temporal feasibility
Reaches...;
The ceiling stays,

And the cobwebs rest
On the edges
Of shattered
regression;
Into the depths
Of pandoric black.

Separately, in the furnace
Sheltered by walls that
separate dirt
From the surface
Releasing souls from the
throat
To ascend into Heaven
And help themselves
To
helpings of pigs
And fleshy substance
Layering tables
with faces of
Unsaved babes of the Lord;
Concocted of
sweat and endurance
Severing ties with the rest of us

Into the furnace.
The brain unravels these hallows

Reality ceases as temporal feasibility
Reaches its end;

The ceiling stays, but the cobwebs
Rest.
Track Name: Scaphist
Bound,
The ground resembles golden gourds
Of amrit as
it slithers
Into your throat, forced open
By hands with
torturous tools and
Ropes to hold you in
Your vessel to
the equidistance.

Acidosis sets and ejects your insides
out
Hours lapse and the insects gather around you,

Decubitus and violently sick;
Infected and dying.


On the seventeenth day
Breath escapes the ribcage

Sick with ulcers that...
That pus and decay the feeble
frame
Drowned in waste and the eggs
That are laid
In
the septic holes
On your cranial case;
Sense replaced

By fever and pain.
Hatching legs set the pace
To
envelope the brain and taste
The thoughts that dare
escape
The cortex plane
To the feast of devouring
temporal space.

Facing into the sun
There is no grace

Until the blood fills your lungs
With toxic shock
And
dementia is done.