Burnt heavy psych like solar flares damage the space between us.
“Wake up, America; wake your punk ass up.”
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So begins Templo del Sonido (Astral Spirits), the words of Lamont “Bim” Thomas bludgeoning us with the reality. Beyond crushed, we experience the fullness of the fury, the entirety of the energy, as if we were flying headlong into the sun.
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But this is America; this is 2018. This is America; this is the 1970s. Flashpoint: resist.
War and protest, blood and soil. We call for hope and are met with iron.
Well, we’ll melt iron.
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Templo del Sonido’s blast furnace is wide open, blazing heat, at times menacing, lurking, ready to engulf at the slightest provocation. It’s a molotov cocktail midair, direct, angry, challenging.
It’s fucking Obnox, people; let that shit ignite.
[Visit full site to view media]Templo del Sonido by Obnox