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A Stirring In The Noos

by John Frum

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GW Whitehead
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GW Whitehead This maybe the best Death Metal album of the year! A crazed mix of Anata, Gorguts, and others, this is an epic and original Death Metal record, which is hard to do. It will kick your ass. It is fresh and never loses momentum, moving from one great idea to another. An instant classic. Hyperbole? Listen to it! I think not.
Favorite track: Assumption of Form.
Malcolm Pugh
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Malcolm Pugh Tasty and unique! Favorite track: He Come.
scot moriarty
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scot moriarty This album is so killer. It's intricate and interesting in so many ways. I was looking forward to listening to it for quite a while, and it completely exceeded my expectations. Favorite track: Memory Palace.
amemberofdoomborer thumbnail
amemberofdoomborer I went and saw Dillinger on their fairwell tour and Liam was fuckin' ripping it up. He owned the stage while the rest of the band was being devoured by the crowd. Crazy show...But I came home follwed Dillinger on facebook and lord behold they threw John Frum up there to give them some support. As soon as they released music I was hooked. Been waiting for its release for a while and when preorders came out I was able to snatch up one of the limited LPs. Listening now and can't wait to check them out live.
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The patron saints of altered states known as JOHN FRUM welcome in the golden age of musical enlightenment with A Stirring In The Noos. Nearly 6 years in the making, JOHN FRUM’s unorthodox debut maneuvers through 40 minutes of darkly psychedelic and meticulously crafted death metal, acting as a medium for malefic musings, the backdrop of a bad trip. JOHN FRUM borrows its name from a relatively isolated group of natives in the South Pacific islands, known as a Cargo Cult, whose encounter with the outside world led to an awakening of new beliefs and lifestyles. The mysterious JOHN FRUM is the manifestation of four musical minds coalescing in a collective consciousness developed from time spent playing with The Dillinger Escape Plan, The Faceless, John Zorn, Cleric and many more elite projects. A Stirring In The Noos is a dismal distillation of oneric transmission and a totem to modern primitivism in heavy music.


released May 12, 2017

2017 Relapse Records



all rights reserved


John Frum Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Darkly psychedelic and meticulously crafted death metal from current and former members of The Dillinger Escape Plan, The Faceless, John Zorn & more! Debut album 'A Stirring In The Noos' Due Out May 12th on CD/LP/Digital via Relapse Records.

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Track Name: Presage of Emptiness
I am the one whose prism refracts nothingness
The colorless backdrop upon which all myths are painted
Maps to enlightenment drawn upon this hide
Observed but unrecognized with calumnious genuflection
Growing fat on the vanity of rested laurels
Being named in the earliest days
I am no Creator, undesiring of paltry praise
Though no creed descends from this cosmic maw
All shall find truth in eradicating negation
I am the incessant hunger
The concept upon which all famine is based
The suzerain sire of starvation
Ineffable collapser; engine of nihility
Swallowing each generation’s beacon of hope
I have brought cause and borne witness to the siege of countless eternities
I am the one whose form is unfathomable
The sprawling sidereal splendor
A monochromatic aberration
A tenebrific enormity
Drowning the heavens in a shimmering void
I am the one whose progeny is desolation
The annihilating lineage’s physical manifest
Those swathed in eyes staring through onyx lids
Scarring the land with a flagellating gait
Those whose limbs dam the fetid waters
Curdling creation’s stifled lifestream
Those dreadful enough to choke the wind from the sky
Commanding gravity, upheaving all bound by nature
And now you have heard mine herald’s cry
And now we are met
Track Name: Pining Light
Oh, Golden Child
You have brought forth the sun again
Each ray traversing space and time
Striving to reach you
Fighting the cosmos to die on your flesh
The misguided quieted by the casting of a shadow
Content in the shade of the master
Existing within the unlocked spectrum
First of your line to gaze upon the whole
Shrouded in mystery of unknown depths
All that ends and begins lays within thine bronzed cauldron
Walking upon wisps of earthspun silk
The claw grown long begs to curl its way back
To begin a time anew, defying the fiber of being
Though this is a temple of vibrance
A complete denial of witheredness
Impulsive being
He who has run the gauntlet
Through consultation of the blood bestowed
Following the path of salted earth
Baseborn entity
Product of divine eugenics
Societal surfeit coupled with a lost love
No natural place for a creature such as this
so nature has gladly extended her bounds
We sing your praise in a foreign tongue
Crushed by the weight of a concept
Whose will would you follow but thine own?
We sing your praise in a foreign tongue
Track Name: Memory Palace
Propelling through the unknown, the world split in twain
Tessellating ad infinitum, one was too small to grasp the scope
An endless expanse of the protocosmic horizon lay in full upon the edges of what could no longer be considered reality
Knowing not where I existed, only that I was among the insubstantial truth
I communed with naught
The being craved a new arena
The mind became pregnant with the concept of the new universe
And in that moment, I rewrote the sacred scripts
I waged the interminable war
I solved the formulas yet to be proposed
I became the primordial, abolishing death, expanding into consciousness
Egression denied as dimensions phase
Many planes awaited the arrival of a new reality
Choosing the one that vibrated to the pulse of existence
The body mutated rapidly, selecting a new form
As big as a thought
As small as a god
Upon emergence from creation
There awaited an opaque world faceted of one’s own reflection
But the eyes of the world surveyed itself with reproach
Such hubris this one had to fancy himself a creator
To bring a world to fruition with the damaged sensibility of man
Unknown hues streak across endless depths of sullen gloom
Effulgent emanations retreat from an innate approach
The incumbent Chaos, ultimate arbiter of creation
Welcomes this new inhabitant with destruction's caress
Track Name: Through Sand and Spirit
Maladjusted intelligence forbids autonomy
Metaconsciousness mistaken for prophecy
A maniacal transmission affirms the distraught
Easing the qualms of a lurid fantasy
The orgiastic defilement of all weakened minds
An illicit beckoning howling mockery at the attuned
Whose slacked jaws and wide eyes
Convey more truth than any corrupted mandate
The varlet abides the geas
And by his own hand, with the voice of another
Bring forth cataclysmic fulmination
Let the spark of blind ignorance ignite the great conflagration
A terrestrial empyreal eraser
This is the heat that does not rise
A primordial bedlam drowning out the fanfare of man
As flames translate the obscure
Idols transmuted to ash
Reduced to crumbling slag
Dissolving into muck
Usurpers bow their knee to nature
Waiving reign over earth
Discord become solace
The end is wrought
Not by a plague set upon by the wrongful worship of a spurned god
but by those fool enough to believe that that would be so
Track Name: Lacustrine Divination
Summon the conclave, those kindred of honor
Become the eye the mind has willed
Welcome the visceral divergence
Palliating the corporeal burden of being
Subsist amongst reverberated genesis
Reject the antrhopomorphosis of man
Sift through the doorway etched in stone
Solid through solid as blood through vein
The mountainside rages, a pulsating maelstrom
Boscage writhes and wails in unison
Given a voice, it howls its verdant cacophony
Crafting the next great extinction
A chastising wind blows fervently
An elemental lamentation echoes through time
Fear the translucent mirror
And its amorphous surface
Whose image placates the tumult
An enduring vision of tranquil innocence
Where mutated forms manipulate rationale
Not all that is alluring is welcoming
Crawl back to the womb, peer forth from its portal
The melting precipice reveals the birthplace of inspiration
Combining flesh with loam
Forging the amalgam of abstract thought
Glean knowledge of the elder
Whose flesh lay rend upon the form
Ascended aphasic augur
Coeval of nature, imputing purity
Dismisses the conclave, those of transcended mettle
An enlightened mind fades with the dying light
Drink of the blood that fuels time
Slog through this fledgling actuality
Surrender truth for existence
Memory retreats into unnavigable madness
Laying dormant until a more profound convocation
Track Name: Assumption of Form
Creation's breath holds a hedonic aroma
Carried on a bellowing voice, calling for a changing of the guard
Seeping forth from prolapsed earth
Pyres fueled by the molten hearth
Dwelling where the transformation incubates
The sun around which all truly rotate
Long enough has this been a false reliquary
A land forsaken for crafted surfeit
Will be a land that none deserve
Now seek the salvation biding within mine churning furnace
Mine is the coming of the thawing of the impermafrost
The spreading of forgotten lands
The cast chalice in which essence is held
Beyond the threshold of life’s sculpted mold
Magmatic demiurge awakens from a ruptured aeon
Ushering a reckoning reclamation
Observed from a panopticon of fumarolic oubliettes
Oh, impudent beasts, who have exceeded their bounds
To have bested the inaugural waters of life
And escaped to a lesser existence
Unsanctioned terrestrial dawning
Faith lies in ruin at the bottom of the sea
Cast into the roil by those who first spread its plague
False belief beheld by purveyors of artifact
What magic is this that could inspire such avarice?
Aeon overwritten by rolling splendor of earthflesh
A new gospel is imbued in every igneous fold
Great eradicator, humanity's widow
Awaiting the coming of a successor
Equalizing feral land for a more worthy contender
Let the new inhabitant revel in the failure of man
And take nothing from its disavowed heritage
This earth is soma
Track Name: Wasting Subtle Body
This is not your voice
This is not your breath
It is not the consequence of something heaven sent
The tower that begs ascending
With polished steps reflecting failure
Grasping at destinies laid before
A fall from such heights would break any beast
Having felt the lurching rhythm of the earth
Vetted against the beating of the heart
With the sun and moon’s attraction
Measured against a clawing hand in the longing dark
Without, within
Not without temptation
The pretension of being enraptured with a concept
While being lost in a completionist’s reverie
Without the problems of inherent obsolescence
Is this the lauded humility?