Even Spilled Seed Crawls Toward The Womb: A Noise-Fueled Joyride You Didn’t Know You Needed
Alright, buckle up, because Ten Thousand Miles Of Arteries (try saying that five times fast) has delivered one of the gnarliest slabs of industrial chaos you’re likely to hear this side of 2017. Even Spilled Seed Crawls Toward The Womb—yeah, catchy title, huh?—isn’t just an album; it’s like someone took all your nightmares, threw them in a blender with some power electronics, and hit “puree.” Released on Annihilvs, this US-based noise monstrosity is not for the faint of heart or anyone who values their eardrums.
Let’s talk tracks. First off, the title track, "Even Spilled Seed Crawls Toward The Womb," kicks things off with a vibe so unsettling you'll wonder if your headphones are haunted. It's got layers of distorted everything—screeching synths, guttural growls, and beats that sound like machinery having a meltdown. But weirdly enough, it sticks with you. Like when you step on gum and can’t get it off your shoe. You hate it, but also… kinda admire its tenacity.
Then there’s "Purple Cloak," which I swear sounds like what would happen if Nine Inch Nails had a baby with a malfunctioning fax machine. There’s this hypnotic pulse running through it, almost danceable until the walls of static crash down around you. It’s the kind of song that makes you want to scream into the void while simultaneously questioning whether the void is screaming back at you. Memorable? Absolutely. Enjoyable? Depends on how much coffee you’ve had today.
The rest of the album keeps the energy high—or should I say low, since most of it feels like crawling through shadowy tunnels filled with broken glass and existential dread. Tracks like "Skeletal" and "White Robe" bring the pain in different ways, each layering textures that feel both mechanical and disturbingly human. By the time you hit "Even Spilled Seed..." again (because why not repeat the trauma?), you might find yourself wondering if you accidentally signed a demonic contract by pressing play.
So yeah, this album isn’t exactly dinner party material unless your guests are into avant-garde torture simulations. But here’s the thing—it’s oddly compelling. Like watching a car wreck in slow motion, you can’t look away even though every fiber of your being tells you to. Maybe that’s the magic of Ten Thousand Miles Of Arteries. Or maybe they just really hate silence.
Final thought: If Elon Musk ever decides to colonize Mars, he should blast this album from giant speakers orbiting the planet. Aliens will either bow down to us or flee in terror. Either way, win-win.
