Collapse is never immediate, rather it manifests as a slow crawl punctuated through critical fracturing along the path of history, often done in one way or another by the hands wielding power forcibly through a deafness of the reality before them. This record lingers between prophecy and denial. It conceptually inhabits the commons where the echo of unseen footsteps wander through the crumbling colonnades of the present. Industrial drones, fractured rhythms, and the weight of distant marches becomes the theme of a civilization watching its future erode as its past slipped away through the very columns and pillars they fought to build, recalling the moment Rome mistook foresight for madness. Like a forgotten oracle speaking into concrete and static, the album is not just a fleeting memory of collapse but a transmission from the edge of the next one.
Caesar: Who is it in the press that calls on me?
I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,
Cry 'Caesar!' Speak; Caesar is turn'd to hear.
Soothsayer: Beware the ides of March.
The Tragedy of Julius Caesar—Act I, Scene 2
1 Track. 5m39s. Lathe-cut into Acrylic in the US. Six insert cards printed front and back on 100# matte cover in black and white with metallic silver, and spot metallic clear + three cards printed front and back on florescent yellow stock. Limited edition of 20.