Defective Overpass EP

by Shroud Of Despondency

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Peter pasta good shit. black metal feel, with a touch or speed metal. I dig it. Favorite track: In View of Birth.
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This two song EP is the precursor to what will end up being the last Shroud of Despondency full length album. The as of now untitled full length will be out sometime in early 2015, or possibly even late 2014, and will also be a free download. Both songs deal with the idea of confession. They both mock and accept the idea.


released October 5, 2014

Rory Heikkila-Guitars, Fretless Bass, Machine, All Vocals on "Valleys"
Ron Blemberg- Vocals



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Shroud Of Despondency Milwaukee, Wisconsin

Shroud of Despondency was formed by Rory Heikkila in the late 1990's.

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Track Name: In View of Birth
I have to confess this. I can not blame anyone for my suffering. There are no triggers that I am aware of, therefore I must be to blame. I am to blame. It torments me, the very thought of awareness, and the subsistence of my species demands that I attack. So I attack myself or I attack the outside. I've become attached to emotion, no matter the consequence and those close to me, who share with me, can too become victims. I am a victim as you are a victim. Our commonality exists in that we suffer. Racked with guilt, feel the wretchedness. Rejection now anxiety, helplessness now anger or apathy. Feasting torment, create the wretchedness. Repudiation a strengthening delusion and a solitary path but one that gives me power. I have to again confess that with this knowledge I have been blessed. There are no short cuts through this walk of shame, only talking faces and self obsessed names. I have to again confess that with this knowledge I have been blessed. Martyrs suffer all the same. I will not suffer like who I became.
Track Name: Valleys
There are only valleys, more valleys
The hills are all back allies
Flattened by the shadows that hover over the brightness
Life had its moments, its comforts
What remains is coldness and hurt
Flattened by the actions that make one confess
Flattened by the actions that make one confess
Dust angels, old dreams
The skeleton of belief
Morphed into a corpse
That once walked on two feet
Still these angels, these shadows, wont let us be.