One listen.

Just went in, knocked it out. Paused for thought a few times, but got this done in what I feel was a smooth writing process. It does feel a bit broken up, but that’s how everything was coming to me.

Shallow North Dakota’s “Salvo” is from Auto Body Crusher.

I hope you enjoy.

—

Distorted percussion rumbles and strikes, thuds into a floor, echoes out and suddenly is engulfed by a morass of noise. It’s still there, seemingly moaning underneath it all, just bits and pieces caught and held under, specific and vague.

Suddenly it breaks through and plays a bit faster before sinking down once more and falls apart. Loses its shape whilst remaining recognizably itself. More a suggestion; more a nothing, and disappearing melding into a distance, into a quiet noise; a hiss and fading, and still there, slow, disassembled, almost.

Having exploded and arced and sunk down, and little is left. Everything is there, but it’s nothing, lost in a thick, engulfing wall; a harsh wind, and fading out into nothingness.

Something rises up; a pulse that perhaps represents what once was; what gives an idea, and it builds and suddenly releases into a full sound that suddenly stops at the song’s end.