Psycroptic - No Blade of Grass (Drum Playthrough)

Buy here: http://www.metalblade.com/psycroptic @Psycroptic's Dave Haley performs "No Blade of Grass" from "The Pulse of Annihilation." Dave Haley plays: Pearl Drums Using a Decade Maple Series Zidljian Cymbals Using A, A Custom, Z3 & Oriental series Chaos Drum Sticks Dave Haley 2B Custom sticks Precision Kicks V2 Series Trigger Czarcie Kopyto Pedals Standard series Remo Drum Skins Pin Stripe and CS series Produced by NJV Media @NJVMEDIA “This one has a good blend of old-school PSYCROPTIC-style riffage and slightly sludge filled, loosey-goosey sections straight outta the classic death metal era,” remarks guitarist Joe Haley. “The whole thing is brought together with the choral/orchestral chorus. Something for everyone! Going to be a fun one to rip live!” Bassist Todd Stern agrees, “It’s an unbelievably catchy tune! The main verse is one of my favorite bits on the whole record. Classic riffage, steam rolling the whole song forward with solid momentum all along. Badass.” Adds vocalist Jason Peppiatt, “I had so much fun with this song as it was the first song that [vocalist Jason] Keyser had written for the band and it was awesome to have someone bring different ideas to the table than what I normally would. Vocally it’s nice and fast and has a real sick flow and groove to vocal parts.” Across "The Pulse of Annihilation", PSYCROPTIC sounds focused, disciplined, and fully aware of their trajectory. Complexity remains foundational, but it is now guided by compositional restraint and veteran confidence. With this release, the band reaffirm their status not merely as technical death metal stalwarts, but as architects actively shaping its future, proving that mastery, sharpened by time, only grows more lethal. LYRICS: Unseat the throne of hypocrisy Who mourns when chaos dies Relentless strife and delusion Feeding fevered dreams of poisoned tribes Who rise together a rancorous afterthought Orate the funeral call Every tool and motivation collected Knowledge of generations Capacity to become more than we are A gift bestowed in blood That we prefer to spill Drown the land in our lost wisdom Ripe for the taking Yet left to rot on the vine One beast and one alone Watching ourselves from a distance Shackled to amity We gnaw our own limbs off The diametric confidence Of weaponizing ignorance Complete control An alignment came so close But that is never who we are Or where we stop and stand No blade of grass These ornate gods are all abundant And for that we cannot forgive Blindly we are bestowed as gods ourselves A pantheon of the undead Glorious return to form That much closer to the end Glorious return to form That much closer to the end Every tool and motivation Collected knowledge of generations Capacity to become more than we are A gift bestowed in blood That we prefer to spill Drown the land in our lost wisdom An alignment came so close But that is never who we are Where we choose to make a stand No blade of grass remains