Get all 9 Clutch of Mammon releases available on Bandcamp and save 30%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Zrada, Alma, Eternal Waves, Vol. I, Conjhur, Sloth, Ar Karom Khael, Make Your World, Call One Name, and 1 more.
1. |
Domain of R'Mach
06:42
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R’mach faldun
R’mach koltar
R’mach marag
R’mach dalep
R’mach maimon
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2. |
The Second Book
07:18
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Your strength is repetition, my dream
North, in it my menace
Ali clear the tenets of death
That goes when we put the impression
Junk, massive on with peace, to end
Turn but the sun away to a fragile empty
The bullfighting magnificence, you get to cry
When in the pallor
Careless isn’t much to go on, figure
In kind, exploring the attic – menace?
Short game, cut, starts anyway
To me, fuck, exploring livable
I, and pallor, has been a clear impressive
A call of missing, and peace
This city, my doing
Short, we won’t soar
Many has the rising sound, a Baba’s own’s
People with want, north to menace
Yelling with winds
The people, my fragile pallor
In trying my want
The great urban misery
Its cut has the kind
Sorry, great city
I, and that upstairs, menace
Sorry, the winds
Predator isn’t out of the box
I, yelling death, my stadium
We may menace the gates – menace?
Breathing on your seventh away
It’s been ruins of Ali’s sun
Sorry, the gates
And the help was on breathing, singing
Winds and magnificence, and he, my gates
Obvious too through the end
Drive to rising death, my empty
A cut, have the breathing in it
Call the living, my ruins
Go severed in it, soar miserably
Your strength is repetition, my city
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3. |
Autonomous Serpent
06:43
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The tireless moon begat her tears
In part, to weep in loss before the setting sun
To rise through fog and warm the barren minds below
To writhe in blind ecstasy of insight’s tomb
To draw smoke from splintered bones
And lap the skulls of naked dichromatic hostility
Ideological priapism waves the lack of substance
Strokes the nerves of waning ambiguity
Erect before the hollow tower looming over all
Rise
Rise
Rise
And glimpse through all the lords of no intent
A better try of human to drift away in aspect
Horrors away to my worship that went besieged
Rise
Rise
Rise
The moon reflecting back with inner filter
Primed to see the worlds that you have made
There suppose simply worshiping value, all in the end
Rise
Rise
Rise
You, in the stardust, with burning breath
And we, imperfect, offer life obscured sharing, be gods
Isolated, human, ever human, in mocking paradox
Rise
Rise
Rise
You exist
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4. |
Final Invocation
03:48
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Begat from a tempest’s mouth
Let the sun and moon rise as one
Puking in a storm soaked gutter
face streaming blood and spit and tears and laughter
you are the one who makes your own world
Issued from my dreams, ripped from the subjective skull, I know to be true
The tragic beauty of God's haggard skin
I am my own drunk god, as are you
The eternal solid shadows cast by the minor gods of distant planets loom
while we, the greater gods of changing form
of endless cycling
run stop lights and suck on favored perfumes
rictus, turn to choke forever without change
This is the cabal
I am bundled in mass market voodoo
Trying to tear away cheap paper
To find the holy mountain
The stubborn real
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Clutch of Mammon Minneapolis, Minnesota
Clutch of Mammon is a one-man black-doom thing. There's probably some psychedelic in there too. I like my metal cold and slightly unpleasant.
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