PureVolume

Ascending out of the never-ending mass of musical staleness, otherwise known as hardcore, is Rogue State. And what a fucking relief. These cats are incredible and will keep you inspired and addicted from the opening screams. Their sound is urgent, powerful, clever and catastrophic. And dare I say, melodic? Fuck it. They make it work all too well. Named after Williams Blum's magnum opus, Rogue State drop more notes per measure than the US drop bombs per third world civilian. Well, almost. Known to have shared (and still share) life with Dysentery, Pretty Mess and Dogs of Ire. They are not youngsters. They are animals. Feed them and learn.

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Lyrics
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"Whats The Forecast"
The Answers are here
In the air and in the water
I watch the sun set and look at the horizon
Over time it has changed a few colors
Some build houses and wake up to the waves crash
But the tide pulls in dirty water
And still I give in, fuck!
The answers are here...
The trees struggle to grow as the roots corrode
Surpassing the concrete

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"Call The Fireman"
Thank god for those old hypo-christian white males
We're all on the manner farm paving way for this brave new world
Pump the fear to numb the brain
And dull the mind to keep us the same
We've become t.v. babies strapped to incubators
The aroma in the ait and the waste from every mouth is making me nauseous
We are all swallowing shit

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"I Won't Tell A Soul"
Highway lines show our scars
Nothing I can do
Nothing I can do
This is our hope
Have we led to nothing?
I won't tell a soul
And i'll stay strong

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