Full Stream: Tongue Eating Louse – Voidwalker
In which we thank [insert deity] that we’re not fish.
For you see, while I was initially puzzled how and why a tongue would eat a louse, I’ve since learned that the band is named after Cymothoa exigua, also called the tongue-eating louse. In case you haven’t heard of this little parasitic fella, let me clue you in while we listen to some appropriately disgusting and merciless Canadian sludge in the form of Tongue Eating Louse’s Voidwalker.
Phase 1: The louse takes up residence in the mouth of the fish. Once it’s settled in, it latches onto the tongue to extract any and all blood from it. I would imagine this to be about as pleasant as opener “L’appel du vide”; a slow, torturous affair which subtly shifts and wiggles, and while the occasional ray of light shines through, the ultimate destination is clear: the tongue will atrophy and become useless. Resistance is futile.
Phase 2: All is quiet… for a while. Then, the parasite excises the tongue. Gone are those little glimmers of hope we heard earlier. Nothing left now but agonized screams and methodically crushing riffwork. And the realization that this little sucker is only getting started as he attaches himself to the stub of the tongue and takes its place, feasting on yet more blood and… fish mucus. Yum!
Phase 3: While the fish isn’t further harmed by the parasite, it will eventually die of other causes. That is a feature that you share with the fish, by the way; Voidwalker may not kill you, but it will survive you. “Shaman of L.O.W.” gives you about a quarter of an hour to come to terms with that, enough time to get through the stages of grief efficiently. After that, much like its namesake, Tongue Eating Louse will climb out of your mouth and patiently sit on your head, waiting for the next victim to accidentally snatch it up.
Voidwalker is out tomorrow on Sludgelord Records.
Grab a digital copy over here and stay up to date over here.