Buy both the LP and a CD backup copy
MusicStack has partnered with a vinyl to CD conversion service who will convert the LP to recordable CD for you. It will sound great with no annoying clicks, pops or background noise. All recordable CDs come in a standard jewel case with artwork printed on glossy paper.
How does this service work?
The seller will ship the LP to the digital conversion center in Arizona, USA where it will be format shifted onto a recordable CD directly from the LP only for your ears. The LP and the recordable CD will then be mailed to you. The digital conversion center will not retain any copies of the item.
What does it cost?
Price of the LP + $35 USD for the conversion to recordable CD + cost of shipping of the LP to Arizona + cost of shipping of the LP from Arizona to your location paid in advance.
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| Format: | | LP Want this on CD also?
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| Condition: | | NEW More Info |
| Label: | | VENDETTA 00441520 |
| Released: | | 20130415 |
| Genre: | | METAL |
| Quantity: | | 1 in stock |
Sickness In is the third album from Portlands most wretched, Trees. Following their similarly abject slabs of feedback-doused horror and quasi-formless dirge Lights Bane and Freed of This Flesh on Crucial Blast, the two-song full-length is a slowly rotting heap of droning, slow-motion death-doom riffs decomposing into clouds of black amplifier hum, shrieking voices and tortured screams drifting against the glacial roar of smoking amp stacks and short-circuiting hardware. This time around, the band drops some of their most leaden, majestic riffs yet into a slow-motion filth-storm. Massive, saurian doom rhythms slip way out of the confines of anything resembling a "groove," deep into rumbling fields of charred, ritualistic chanting and Abruptum-like states of psychotic noise. Opener "Cover Your Mouth" crashes in on an avalanche of thrumming electricity and metallic noise;the crushing, abstract heaviness collapses in on itself while the rhythm section accentuates the rumbling black mess with thunderous blasts of anti-propulsion. Trees have always had a somewhat improvisational bent to their extreme doom-laden horror, but just when the track lies on the verge of a field of pure drone, the band unleashes titanic, earth-scorching riffage. On "Perish," the resonant sound of throat singing introduces a new wave of howling, ambient feedback and speaker-hiss, soon transformed into another twisted, agonized pain-dirge as those tortured vocals scrape raw, pain-wracked screams that rise and fall behind the amorphous black sludge and diseased drones..
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