Cercles Volants by Balthazar Tiresias

"May you, who came crashing like the ocean, infest this temple with the vilest grime, may your brine bite my core, leave it reddened and rough

Take the form of a blinding grey light of ash and nihil, cover me and fill my lungs, scrape away at my cells until we collapse and mingle eternally."

Recorded over two days in two improv sessions using a viola, a piano and digital effects out of fixation

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pL_wYuPWUo0

https://netcentury.bandcamp.com/album/flying-circles

NETCEN-031

Tracklist