split LP with Marnost

by Oaken

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about

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If we run out of free downloads, here's a download link to our songs:

tinyurl(DOT)com/kw8d5aa

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You can check out MARNOST's side here:
marnost.bandcamp.com/album/split-lp-w-oaken

credits

released April 10, 2014

The LP is released by the following labels: Bookhouse (USA), Catanarchy (Austria), Dingleberry (Germany), Dzsukhell! (Hungary), IFB (USA), Itai Itai (Hungary), Middle Man (USA), MxFxL (Czech rep.), Prejudice Me (UK), Rotten Raven (Slovakia), THC&DIY (Austria), Zegema Beach (Canada). 525 pieces were made on black vinyl.

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about

Oaken Budapest, Hungary

2 guitars, 1 bass, 1 synth, 1,5 drumkits and fell voices of collective desolation. We are an angry experimental hardcore band from Budapest (HU).

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Track Name: I am the Crucifix
They call me destroyer but I have some other names. Ageless gravedigger, the carrier of the book. The shimmering of a dirt stained cloth running through my veins leaves blinds behind. Unborn serpent worshipping itself to eternity. Inmost core of my being is the void praising the only power. It was the event that changed everything once and for all. You are now on your own. The dove is buried in my flesh. Never kept an oath. No wisdom or remorse. I don’t exist but I’m unable to die. No heroes. I am the crucifix that is not meant to believe in. I am an unholy creation wishing for the death of weak and strong. The divine rage full of hate erects tombs for the hidden truth. I swam in rich people’s blood, bite out the tongues of children, branded the crippled. ’Dead eyed monster’ I once heard. ’You are on your own and there’s nothing in this world greater than me.’ I don’t exist, but I’m unable to die. I am the crucifix that is not meant to believe in.

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[A self-exposing fictive monologue of a malicious and demonic ghost. We know many of its incarnations. The Roman Catholic Church. The Government of Hungary. Banks of any kind. Our hell down here is brought by our leaders.]

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Track Name: Redeemer
Past times are broken here again. Let's follow the rat for this once. Tears are falling backwards. I have to eat the whole worlds dirt to feel something. Only cheap wine works for me nowadays. What is the value in being loved? At the end of the light there is the sun, my hungry redeemer. We are one. We celebrate when the last high tide comes to end our memories. First. Last. Never again. I am pure energy so are you. Our soundless walk shadows the dance macabre. Sends tales of wisdom and moral to the future written on leaves. Distant waves hear the calling of my pocket full of stone. My stone. My pocket. The only two things I really own apart from my loss.

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[A fictive version of the second coming where the impressionable redeemer is left shattered and utterly devastated by the state of the world beyond recovery, all caused by the thoughtlessness of human race. Having met a discerning young man who reveals him the world's powerless and dying nature, the prophet chooses death as the only solution. Thus, humankind after an endless sequel of partial suicides repeated daily to keep serving this horrible machine makes a last and real collective effort and starts off heading for all seas and oceans to reach heaven finally by this unselfish message born in the wave of thousand lonely suicides.]

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