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A Stirring In The Noos

by John Frum

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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
Pining Light 03:46
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
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
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
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
He Come 03:59
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
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 Waxing Waning Dissolving Draining Is this the lauded humility?


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


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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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