Roots in Chicago. Birth in New York. Death in Los Angeles. Beautiful music and ugly noise. Audio graffiti on the walls of convention. As analog was dying, Crisis maintained a very human sound. Their tortured sludge belied an industrial foundation. Truly artistic and exploratory, the band was a microcosm of the cold, hard New York City streets that spawned them. Elements of nature vs. man’s concrete jungle. Man vs. man in a cage match. Documentarians of this primal struggle through art and music. Observers and teachers. Unsung heroes. Forever underground.

get it here:

Crisis – Funeral Parade
01 Kingdom's End
02 There Goes My Soul
03 Different Ways of Decay
04 Mechanical Man
05 Nomad
06 Surviving the Siren
07 Prisoner Scavenger
08 Methodology
09 Sleeping The Wicked
10 A Graveyard for Bitches
11 Working Out the Graves
12 In the Shadow of the Sun
13 Rats in a Maze > Secrets of the Prison House

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