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Music by Numbers

by White Stag

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buckleybass
buckleybass thumbnail
buckleybass OMG this is all over the place and I love it, much for the same reasons I love Mr. Bungle. It's weird and noisy and did I mention weird?
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  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

    Also includes downloads of 6 pieces of conceptual artwork and 7 music videos.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $5 USD  or more

     

1.
After the giant fell... The days: we marched. The leagues we crossed: Devoid of life-- barren. The work: we toiled-- grueling. The time: crawling upon shattered legs. Unfit to sustain life.
2.
Deep Roots 05:41
Deep roots, and shallow skies; Branches tethered to the seas; Winds shudder from shoulder to shoulder, Hands lifted high in feeble surrender. Season whisper their goodbyes, Waxing and waning endlessly; Seeds scatter: some hopeful; some hoped for- Chance and design in unequal measure. And thus entwined with the cloud cover, A conduit for the will of the earth.
3.
Epiphany 03:37
Live. Breathe. Listen.
4.
We draw nigh upon three days' time, Through which the obstruction of power Has held sway over all The mechanizations of the modern way, And the frigid frame Of winter's coldest icy caress Lends unutterable serenity Through a crystalline lens of pristine stillness. Cruel and unforgiving, The frozen earth thrusts finger-like into a leaden sky. The hollow is devastated. The hillfolk congregate for necessity: Fire for the cold, Food for the hungry, And music for the weary soul. The restoration of power did naught to quell our woe, As it never quite snuffed our whimsy.
5.
Whimsy and grim tidings, One by one by one- The day has come to write our name In water on the sun. Dreaming of the spaces We seek between the stars; Reaching forth with unsure hands To grasp what will be ours. How long will winter color Your words white with innocence? I will not listen to your Self destructive common sense. __ Through this city built on lust and sin, He shambles ever on. Machines rumble and criminals grin- They write his lonesome song. He stares at the stone-faced clockwork, Waiting, hoping for a sign. He bleeds out into pools of the muck, And waits for the end of his time. He drowns in the sludge that drips From the cogs of the great machine. He devolves with the world, As it awaits execution, on its knees.

about

A collection of singles, plus all the conceptual work put into them.

credits

released March 9, 2021

All music and lyrics written by Richi Worboys, recorded in the studio of White Stag.

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all rights reserved

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about

White Stag Knoxville, Tennessee

White Stag is an avant-garde project that incorporates progressive metal, jazz, polytonality, and vaporwave elements.

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