forward thinking, backwards living...
blackcell Live From The Launch Pad 02/02/2007 "I Want I'm Bored" Guest Vocals By The Amazing Taka Carnes , Video by Justin Headrick for else product ...::
...:: Injecting Aural Abuse, Into Your Wasted Life ::...
Blackcell has been practicing it's own brand of electronic mayhem in Denver for years self-labled as IPN. Formed in 1996, Blackcell's dark electronic music is the handywork of Matt Jones, Eric Isbell and Lucio Duran. Here are some labels people insist on using: Industrial, IDM, Power Noise, Hardcore, Electronica, and yes Noise...the truth is somewhere in between. With the addition of Lucio Duran (formerly of In Ether ) the music continues to evolve..::
TRANSMISSION FROM THE GOOD PEOPLE AT HQ
All command staff exist here.::
Matt Jones :: (Weapons/Tactics), a juggernaut of purpose, masking his perversion and deviation behind a winning smile.
Lucio Duran :: (Advanced Research) props open doors best left locked, barred and walled up, sealing the abominations inside.
Eric Isbell :: (Bio-Weaponry) seeks new ways to fuse the machinery of resistance with the pliant flesh of the masses.
Auxillary.::
Nik Lamontia -- (Propaganda) exists only through the written word, dripping from his poison pen like venom from a fang.
Atom Oliver -- (Stopgap) founding member of blackcell. Atom's flight status is expected to be re-instated somewhere in the distant galaxy.
HSL, Nichts & ic0nslave are here also, if on another plane. Their machinations provide the treble to this gut-wrenching bass, the handle to this serrated blade. In unison, we provide the blessing you have forever craved: the gift of Truth, the ability to see it and the tools to manufacture it. Our incessant orbit allows us to view your world from every possible angle, beneath every theoretical layer and inside every hollowed mind.
Our heartbeats have synched to the barely perceptible rumble of this HQ, orbiting mindlessly in the Van Allen's. Our environs are dangerous and appealing: Toxicity hangs in our air like the wing beats of death angels. Wormholes erupt at random in our corridors, keeping the faceless patrols vigilant. Structural decay is a sign of our progress, not ruin. Through the scopic panes Jupiter seems an arms length away, and Earth not much farther. Close enough to establish the revolt, rotting from the inside out.
Our vitriol will match perfectly with each and every chromosome, making your rebellion like second nature, like a blink, a breath. Each footstep, every raised hand will be for the Greater Wrong. Our persistent and transmissions, sent from our shaded orbit, incite the New Thought in each and every person gifted enough to receive. With the fuse lit by our able hands, revolt will soon follow, while we are able to review and revise from the safety of our isolation, always mindful, forever plotting.
The Good People at HQ will forever be your guides, until you fail. As long as you have the DNA to receive, we will forever transmit. We will provide the justification to your armament. Make us proud!
