HADŌZAN
Hadōzan makes music like tectonic violence. Cracked rhythms. Collapsing machines. Tones carved from faultlines and buried steel. The drums don’t groove. They fracture. Melody doesn’t soothe. It haunts. Voices don’t speak. They scream through gas masks, or vanish in static. No nostalgia. No escape. This is what the Earth sounds like after.
