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by Coilguns

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Anchorite 03:48
Inside of your skin Love waited too long And feels like sorrow And your deviance In all innocence Rests on your pillow Inside of your skin No heart is beating All sounds are hollow And your loneliness For ages has feared Devoted fellows
Deletionism 04:09
We ran away from normal life We banned our names from all your signs Erasers! Erased Us! We sped away from current time There is no day There is no night Chip on our shoulders The shame, the guiltiness, has faded out The only thing that remains is cardboard Boxes on a floating floor Foreign addresses from foreign shores And garden gloves on the entrance door We took the measures, erasers and rulers We t the place We’ll never give it back the way we found it These ringing sounds are here to stay These shells will blast until they break This gardener, the visitors Doesn’t he come around sometimes? We’ve been waiting since then We’re getting bored, it’s such a waste The certainty of pointlessness It’s everywhere It’s been there for all these years
Millennials 04:08
All the way to furthest eyries Self-growing trees, self-growing trees Crawling down unconscious memories Crawling down, down, below the line Clocklike timing and ageing speed Expected numbers under fallen leaves Tentacles moving underneath Crawling down, down, below the line Postal services as future bees Pollination of the youngest seeds Tracing out every single need Crawling down, down, below the line Reaching out to the buried envy I-M-C, I-M-C Vacuum cleaners of all hidden stories Crawling down, down, below the line All the way to furthest eyries Self-growing trees, self-growing trees Crawling down unconscious memories Crawling down, down, below the lines Of fear
Spectrogram 06:25
it’s a huge step forward [...]
They help me put my shit together Institution clowns
Ménière's 04:58
May we fall Into layers of disorder Blinded by the other Signs of peace Inner conflicts of all kind Sentences and tides Flawless dreams We begin to see this through We begin to follow you In the dark At the end of everything Where the at earth stops to be Our home Hear your calling At the end of everything
Sonic waves Flushed our brains Down the sink
Choose a self-employment scheme For a lifetime career Be sure to pay the entrance And make it through Provision self-awareness skills Hang on the line Follow a sane development Savings set aside
Blackboxing 03:36
Glorious days of emptiness If we thought it’d be this way We’d take our songs to the grave
Screening our minds Leeches for dreams, neurons and veins Dances of joy and angst and pain High speed blasts at smooth pace Kitchen tables and fridges to violate Mirrors of lust, velvet and lace Sleek lips and colours to simulate Idioms of love and trust and trade Rhythms of foreign lands on tapes Twangy reversed sounds to anticipate Luminaries, clouds and cosmic veils Gigantic bright eyes to fascinate Wind machines dominated landscapes Public announce systems to suffocate Amplifiers, nothingness and self-decay Wood sheds, hostels and rooms to stay Plastic palaces and roles to play Millions of reasons to celebrate Desperate causes, dust to inhale Wood burning feast and aggregates Mashed up eggs and sausages Lousy t-shirts in empty cases Anti-ageing beats to propagate Pride, immunity and punk debates Death, organs and melodies to nihilate We take it all in one hand And the other one throws it away


Millennials is a violent and over-the-top distorted record, born in a completely saturated scene and produced by four hyperactive fellows, who for obscure reasons decided few years ago not to work a full time boring job but to invest their money, time and mental health in heavy underground music. One can notice they are eventually older now; their hardcore got lazier, fatter and darker. There is even a new tribal feel to it, just like if those guys were still naïvely dreaming of building a parallel society somewhere in a cursed country where deviance and free self expression would matter as much as business skills and communication concepts. Millennials was written and recorded in january 2016 by the band itself, self-engineered on old second hand tapes in a four rooms wood stove heated vacation house, lost right in the middle of the desperate monoculture landscapes of central germany. What came out is a breathless, lo-fi and lo-tuned epileptic record, that roughly questions their own behaviour as partially conscious citizens of a scarily weird and exciting globalized music world.


released March 23, 2018

Louis Jucker - vocals, noises, guitar
Luc Hess - drums
Donatien Thiévent - synths, backing vocals
Jona Nido - guitar

Recorded by Louis Jucker
Digital and CD master by Louis
Vinyl master by Magnus Lindberg

Artwork by Noé Cauderay
Layout by Gaspard Gigon

Management by Melanie & Simon for AISAmusic.com


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Hummus Records La Chaux De Fonds, Switzerland

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