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Héctor Hurtado Grooscors
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Héctor Hurtado Grooscors Crushing death metal with some sludge/doom influences. Very good stuff.
Azazel ♒ 7293
Azazel ♒ 7293 thumbnail
Azazel ♒ 7293 Hi, I want to say sorry to my mother for birthing a fucked up kid. Now I discovered an awesomely angry band and I still hate myself, but I'm not sorry for my mum anymore. Thanks! Favorite track: Scum of the Sky.
xhrl_ thumbnail
xhrl_ Having owned this for a while I wanted it to stream here. Further I wanted to show a little support to TEETH, because their blackened death metal is so sludgy and miserable that it makes me smile. Odd reasoning I know, but it is the case. I highly recommend this unceasing and unforgiving slab of sonic joylessness and depression. What metalhead could neglect a LP with a cover of a naked woman doing hari kari surrounded by an oceanic abyss? Favorite track: Scum of the Earth.
eric tindall
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eric tindall Every song is impressive! Best underground. Favorite track: To Dream is to Suffer.
ProgHog231 thumbnail
ProgHog231 This from the band: "Expressing our hatred through visceral dissonance." Pretty much describes the music..sludgy doom with an acid bite. Outstanding use of tempo in this album, both within and between songs. Favorite track: Hostless.
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    "Unremittance" pressed on 180 gram vinyl

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released November 24, 2014



all rights reserved


TEETH California

Expressing our hatred through visceral dissonance.

Erol Ulug- Guitar/Vocals
Vincent Nguyen - Drums
Peter King- Bass
Justin Moore- Guitar/Vocals

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Track Name: To Dream is to Suffer
Even with everything I dreamt of I can't seem to shake the thought. I gaze outside while they frolic and fall, laughing while the sun kisses their pale faces. Arms outstretched to tear away the clouds with faces painted by spring's soil. I am alone in my fulfillment and have exhausted my prayers, knees swollen and scabbed from the fold of my begging. My slit gripped by the glory of maternity only to change its mind a few trimesters too late. Humanity is fickle like the hormones writhing through all of us. Here one day, gone the next, even mothers desire dust. I'll crack the earth beneath my feet and return the bones of my burden. Ligaments torn by the drone of my hymns, with palms bound shut by gold-trimmed testaments. Their shells will spoil for compost to fertilize shameless gardens of concrete. What good are dreams if they come true? We all exist in the
promise of nothing.
Track Name: Leech Eater
I will ingest your will like swine. Emasculating your sprawled idols statured in modern temples. I long to cleave your speech from throat and limbs from center. Fuck your "namaste" and fuck the hope that drives it. Will of leeches, bottom feeding sacks of shit. 

Manifest your destiny of excrement.
I loathe this modern world.

I long to kill this modern world with hands of disdain.
I loathe my modern world.
Track Name: Hostless
She spoke ceramic words as broken as the legs she crawled on. Promising me a money shot in heaven’s wound. I dissolved in her meadow only to set it free with a septic growth. A growth that was never bathed to cleanse the sins of origin. Her carrion deteriorated me unto dust while her soil began to bud flower pedals smelling of shit. Putrefaction beckoning the disintegration of my organs while my spine, coiled like a millipede, was fossilized by the rust of indifference. Her Earth whispered to me with open legs and the breath of an ovarian cyst gripped in sickly shame. While tonguing me with the rotten buds of regret, my member boiled with treacherous rot. The aneuritic walls opened and bled for me. They swelled to swallow me while I kept drilling and digging to find a place for my hate to sleep. A throne for my parasite. I planted poison in her soil and walked away, gently washing the blood from my hands. I can only hope that when we die we'll be a happy family while we burn.
Track Name: Scum of the Sky
I saw an angel today and I ate its wings. The flesh of seraph filled my empty gullet. It had a message that someone will never receive. It's of no importance anyways because your god is a jealous bitch. Scum of the skies, bleeding us for every fucking dime at will. His quaint little fucking messenger turned to sand in front of me as I cackled like Ted Bundy telling yet another lie. What a fucking shitbag I am. Like that dipshit nailed to wooden boards. Our morality sells for so little when it's founded upon the feces of martyrdom. Charming scent of prescribed enslavement, it doesn't matter anyways, we're all cowards. Believe nothing. Everyone lies and everyone dies. You'll believe anything.
Track Name: Scum of the Earth
Hope slips our tongues though overcome by nesting termites. Choking down the lies we stage with the promise of teary eyed altar boys. Dawning our gags comforted by papal guilt. Constricted in monotony. Our chests can no longer rise and fall and our bones shatter as though seizing. Reaching out with arms as broken as our hope. One just cannot help but grin at our spineless form, distorting to try and create purpose. Slithering across our own shit to dress our graves with clean sheets. Happily dancing, fucking and deep throating our umbilical link to reason. Our hollowed thoraces guised in laughter. Smiles as useless as the faiths that create them. Nothing is all. Everything void.
Track Name: Cure for Aging
Save me
From the day
I wake up without a prostate
Leaving a dick only for pissing
Save me from the day I can't make it across the street 
From the day I can't even make it to the shitter, much less wipe it away. 

Save me from the day my skin cracks and washes away
Save me from the day the last follicle falls from my ear 

Save me from the day my spine bends beneath the decades 
Save me from the day I fall to my knees and pray 

Save me the pacemaker, save me the defibrillator, save me the catheter, save me from all of my friends’ funerals

Save me from the day my spine bends beneath the decades 
Save me from the day I fall to my knees and pray
Track Name: Vers La Flamme
The future is the lair of bastards, and may the stench of piss guide us to its fields of trash. Conjuring posterity is like providing vermin a fleeting speech. We breed only to appease our broken, chickenshit, forefathers. Lavishly exigent cowering suns with hearts quivering, warm in their rib cages. Feeding and bloating that contemptible little wish not to bite some dust. As pink, pale and soft as worms, clumsily writhing in rivers of mud. Torn and forked like the trails we've never walked, dried and cracked by autumn winds, like the trees we'll never climb. 

The sun gleaming with indifference as it swells, without the slightest concern for the tomorrows we dream about. It knows its destiny, just like ours. Crowned in cinder and left with hollowed husks, as torched as our future, held grasping in the wake of our own self destruction.