Illegal Nobility

Two bloody ghosts on the edge of the abyss of the electronic scene. With no past, no future, no clear goal - only the insane roar of aggressive rhythms they feed the chaos with. They chose the dark side not for glory, but for destruction and rebirth. Their music is more than just noise. It is a weapon. It unfolds like an acid trip: tightening, breaking, digging into your brain, leaving you twisted and shaken like a drunken race car driver after a skid on the expressway. Everyone who enters their field becomes part of that damned web, an invisible net from which there is no escape. It vibrates, changes, pulses as you slowly sink into its viscous darkness. Their rhythms are not for an audience. It's for you, for your inner demons, for the part of you that's best not to know. Their lair is Moscow. Their identities are a mystery. Perhaps they don't even exist. Legend has it that they were hanged long ago by the Spanish Inquisition, but their bodies were revived by forces better not named. Now these shadow puppets continue their work. Invisible, illegal, inevitable. Rumor has it they come into your dreams to cast a noose of rhythms you can't forget.