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From their upcoming third album, What Passes For Survival, "Trash Talk Landfill" immediately makes it clear: talk comes cheap. I mean, fuck it, right? The most extreme music is straightforward; though Pyrrhon's own music -- the strange, gibbering mass of sound constructed at the hands of drummer Steve Schwegler, guitarist Dylan DiLella, and bassist Erik Malawe -- might be bizarre and jagged, the incensed intent is clear. Though referred to as "intelligent" or "jazzy," Pyrrhon's line-toeing approach to free improvisation and traditional riffcraft is based in angry, straightforward… fucking rage. Just like every other drooling metal blogger, I guess I kind of lost myself in the "pretty worded review" approach. Do you really think I talk like I write? I can assure you: I curse just as much as the veil-lifted (and Invisible Oranges alumnus) Doug Moore in this new era of Pyrrhon, but he sounds even more convincingly annoyed. Moore gives unnecessarily prosaic morons like me the finger.

Why pretty up chaos? Why lighten the load of rage? This isn't comedic gore worship, nor is it a pseudo-Laveyan-Nietzschean pit of isolated self-idolatry. This more human bluntness and self-condescension is what drew people like me to extreme music, this denial of popular culture and self-ingratiation in favor of extremity. Pyrrhon is the embodiment of that counterculture. Casting off conventional musicality in favor of unbridled death metal Expressionism, Pyrrhon commands the sounds of falling apart, virtually bursting at the seams, and the confidence of pure, straightforward damnation with the enraged command of harsh diction and lyrical elocution. This is not your dad's death metal -- What Passes For Survival is death metal broken apart, and Pyrrhon uses the shards to build an uncanny valley version of it. It hurts. It is extreme. They don't care. Fuck your subtlety.

What Passes For Survival will be released August 11th on Willowtip Records and Throatruiner Records. Listen to "Trash Talk Landfill" and read its lyrics (which make me feel self-conscious) below.

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From the band:

"Trash Talk Landfill", Steve [Schwegler]'s first songwriting effort with the band, is an expression of the more playful side of Pyrrhon's personality, both structurally and lyrically. Obviously, it's still quite dark, so people might just scratch their heads when they hear that we were laughing constantly while putting it together. It's also a pretty self-effacing song lyrically even though it's an absurd and ambitious instrumental undertaking, which is an odd juxtaposition, I suppose.

-Doug Moore

Lyrics:

Talk comes real cheap

Expend and dispose, expend and dispose

These days, it’s what I live to do Oh, I know this junk is tacky

But it’s what I’ve got to offer

I’ll just keep on spitting out more litter

It’ll heap up in disposable drifts

Some poor fucks will sort through it in shifts Believe me, there’s more where that came from Where can I buy budget words to describe

The awful hole that gapes inside

Me, and just keeps growing, growing, growing

As I pour in more and more plastic metaphors You know you’re gonna keep on reading

This shit, lightweight and stripped of the meaning

It once wrapped up, ‘til I used it all up

Now it’s dross, compacted in metonym clumps And all this waste comes straight from my waist

I’m shitting out tons and tons of this garbage every year

Dumped logotoxins leach into the groundwater

I’ll make every ear my sewer It’s all trash talk, trash talk, trash talk

Throw me on the pile

No deposit for recycle

One use only And all that offal is crawling

Back up through the plumbing

It’s clambering out

Of the landfills and rivers My filth children will wander

While I spawn more, and wonder

Why these refuse similes

All sound so incomplete

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Follow Pyrrhon on Facebook and Bandcamp.

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