from by Drude



Feast on crow, prophets of sorrow. Don't give it sway, better to leave alone. You'll find the apogee inside. Only a mountain pass to climb. Upon the ocean wave of time. Through the gateless gate of mind. No faith is golden. No secret stolen with bones and sinew holding the erudite knowing.


from Drude, released March 3, 2017



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Drude Indianapolis, Indiana

A particular strain, a dense and measured hybrid of
doom, hesher and prog that sedates and bludgeons with
equal abandon. In a musical environment where attention spans
are null, Drude make music that grates directly against that simple
fact. "We call it post-toke metal"...The instructions are pretty clear.
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