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Wolves At The Door

by Nequient

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    6-panel digipak featuring artwork by M.G. Miller. Limited run of 150.

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    Special edition cassette release via Sassbologna Records, featuring artwork by M.G. Miller. Limited to 100.

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Scorcher 02:32
Years slip by. Still no closer To acceptance. Walls painted with blood From violence self-inflicted. Reliving the moment When you’re rejected. In bitterness And desperation Reason subsides. Feel the heat Of a bridge Burning at your back. Substance abuse And self-hatred All you have left. Lash out against the object of your obsession, Hurting only yourself in the process. When you subsist on lies for long enough The truth sounds like the grossest deception. Push it out of your mind with misdirected aggression. Pathetically pleading for someone’s attention. Walls painted with blood From violence self-inflicted. Lost in a labyrinth of your delusion, Hopelessly clinging to an illusion.
ROI 02:08
Traded my soul for a 401K. Whoring myself every day. I’ll write anything if you pay. We’re all inundated By a flood of bullshit, And I’m the one who baited The hook you bit. Never thought I could Peddle falsehood Just for an easy buck. But I guess I don’t give a fuck. Another day wasted in this place. In the mirror I see my father’s face. All information coopted, And every system corrupted. Your potential consigned To an ash heap of the mind. Confined to a room Of chimps with typewriters, Pounding away for corporate masters. Underpaid shills Create thought leaders. Pay the bills And kill your readers. Don’t believe a goddamn word I say. No dignity as I die every day.
We shall rise, great once more As we were some time before. Not what you say - it’s how you say it. A tantrum thrown by an idiot. Wear your privilege As a badge of merit. Contempt for knowledge Lures the desperate. Prejudices held sacred. Understanding is rejected. Pluck out your own eyes To see the savior’s guise As you fall into line. Bring out the scapegoats And incite the slaughter. We’ve seen the enemy Sink beneath the water. The callous lead the blind. Faith locks a closed mind. Cult of ignorance. Fear is power. Thought is weakness. The master’s curs Feast on his scraps. Protect our way of life Through isolation. A wall to keep the vermin out Of this rotting nation.
Building more efficient means To slaughter and to maim, And counting down the days Until they’re turned on you. States engulfed in flames And cultures drowned in blood. Civilization gives way To universal terror. Reaping the seeds once sown By imperial arrogance. Dominance is now imposed Through rape and execution. Excising thought and reason, Compassion shorn away. Caliphate fills the void, History burning in its wake. Leave no one alive. Answer stones with tanks. Answer guns with bombs. Answer drones with poison. Tyranny turns to chaos turns to genocide. Once more, a screaming comes across the sky.
For all your sanctimony Your only god is money, And on profit’s altar You offer sons and daughters. Mammon tempts - Moloch devours. The white shroud you don Does nothing to conceal The darkening stains Of innocent blood spilled. Venom of the corrupt Sipped from poisoned cup. Your words ring hollow. Deception proves shallow. Plead your ignorance. Play on intolerance. Lips mouth denial. Platitudes turn bile. Lives ravaged and cut short. Button-down demons hold court. Mammon tempts - Moloch devours. Children die for wealth of cowards. Bureaucracy your only shield When venality stands revealed.
Last vestiges of civilization Swallowed by self-immolation. Enlightenment and inclusion Prove a vacant facade. No room for doubt - just guile. The confidence of the vile. Insularity, xenophobia Have their day in nuclear glare. Laying our cards on the table, There’s no fucking cat and no cradle. The bloodlust wells up again. Lines are drawn in the sand. The dreams of peace We once shared. Giving way to final nightmare. Violent lure of gratification Capturing all in stagnation. Locked in fruitless competition. Slouching to extinction. We get the end that we deserve For our arrogance and our greed. Last act in theatre of the absurd. Capital left no room for empathy. Let’s get the fuck out of here. On a train headed for nowhere. Trace the countless strands Held by withered hands. Still no fucking cat And still no cradle.
Carve another name into the memorial. We watch you rot and fall. In you we saw what we wished to be. Brought low by mortality. Carve another name into sand For another hero damned. Leave behind legs of stone, Gods revealed as flesh and bone. No matter what you say Or allow yourself to see, Death brings only your decay. What you’ve been is all you’ll be. Comforted by cold embrace, All you cared for is erased. On the day of execution. Starless night in black. It’s only getting darker. Longing to go back, But I’ll be lost here. On the day of execution. In this artificial world, is suffering all that’s real? Writ upon every brow, “Et in arcadia, ego.” Rot and fall. On the day of execution, Plaintive cry for absolution. Your despair is a trap. That way lies the noose. Blinded by empty pap. We turn our fears loose.
Kakistocracy 03:37
The end of the empire. Nero live-tweets the fire. Lunatics take bedlam. Purify the asylum. Kakistocracy - The power of hypocrisy. Nuclear arsenal Becomes a child’s toy. A world of enemies For him to destroy. Turn the flock over To wolves at the door. They scarcely hide Fangs stained by gore. Kneel before the spray-tanned face of destruction And get over it, losers. The mob takes revenge With strength fueled by A century of resentment. Ready to grab a nation by its pussy And refuse to let go. A clown is named ringmaster. The main event is disaster. Watch as reason is shackled And science led to the scaffold. Exalt narcissism, Suicidal nihilism. Obsequious cronies in the wings. Maggots play at being kings.
Take the stage like a Norse god, Terrified I am a fraud. My fragility Masked by corpse paint. Loins girded by bullet belt, Spit upon the saints. All it takes is a spooky name And the right battle vest. I can live with Mom forever, And no one will ever suspect. I am lord of this realm, Slaughtering Christians left and right. Offer praise to only Satan. Snort a rail; start a fight. Never again will I be alone, For I have hatred on my side. Death and pestilence reign supreme. I swear I've never cried. The ultimate apotheosis – Tolkien nerds turn white power bullies. The ultimate apotheosis – Blast beats and cocaine. I am the warrior sent to crush you Under boots the size of my ego. Spiraling to self-destruction While bemoaning my oppression.
The tragic irony, Jester in agony. No one should die like this. All those sordid stories Of drunken glories Shadowed by the abyss. The chimes at midnight Now go silent. Your life torn away Swift and violent. Dancing on the edge Till the day you stumble. Looking for sense in the chaos Can only lead to madness. Narratives formed out of grief, The terror that fuels belief. A cold consolation After devastation: A fitting tribute. Waiting to follow suit. Accelerating decay. Devoured from within. You dwindle to ashes. Every gesture is a futile one In the face of loss. Coins for the ferryman. Still a river to cross. The players disappear When the curtains fall. There’s no grand finale And no last call. By a voice haunted still, a voice now silenced. Empty words, hope for healing. With a wound still gaping. Coins for the ferryman. Fill your cup at Lethe and drink deep.
Cynicism and apathy Murder inspiration. Lost in your own disguise, A self-annihilation. The center cannot hold. A culture bought and sold. There is no turning back. The battle rages on. Though my senses dull, Still a war to be won. The enemy’s always been An insurmountable force, And yet we carry on, Staying the course. In defiance of reason. A world of cold calculation, Of lies and domination. But the Devil’s Party Still survives. We refuse our fetters, And Hell revives. This is the only fight That’s ever mattered. The one for our own minds, For souls bruised and battered.


“A sea change seems to be afoot in the heavy music game. Young bands like Code Orange, Knocked Loose and now NEQUIENT’s approach to the genre is to craft albums that pull from as wide a net of influences as possible and spinning that yarn into functional songs. On Wolves at the Door (Nefarious Industries) NEQUIENT uses d-beat-laden Crust Punk as a framework, and stacks on Thrash, Grindcore, Hardcore, Sludge and Black Metal to create a collage of brutality.” – Ghost Cult Magazine

“There are many things in life that will instantly put a stupid smile on my stupider face. The list includes, but is not limited to, D-beat madness, late ’90s/’00s chaoscore, and the collapse of mankind transposed into sound. Wolves at the Door, the debut album by Chicago’s NEQUIENT, comes blazing in on a misanthropy-fueled ICBM missile sporting all of the above and, therefore, our enthusiastic stamp of approval.” – Decibel Magazine

“The composition is barreling and misanthropic, like many a good Vonnegut tale; and is certainly a worthy take at honoring one hell-of-a-good writer who always seemed right on the edge of fantasy and reality. Nequient is aware of this precarious line, and “Cat’s Cradle” — a new single from their upcoming full-length Wolves at the Door — rips hard in its apocalyptic hue.” – Invisible Oranges

“Your first taste of Wolves at the Door is “Scorcher”, the opening track and a fitting introduction to an album that’s gonna punch through your door like the Kool-Aid Man, drink all your beers, and make you tearfully apologize to your dad for clearing out his booze stash. “Scorcher” bursts to life with a godawful clatter and slams it into high gear with d-beat madness. Fans of Early Graves will welcome this track with open arms.” – Toilet ov Hell


released May 18, 2018

Catalog ID: NEF-32 / SASS-059

Chris Avgerin – Drums
Keenan Clifford – Bass
Patrick Conahan – Guitar
Jason Kolkey – Vocals

Produced and mixed by Pete Grossmann at Bricktop Recording.
Mastered by Brad Boatright at Audiosiege.
Artwork by M.G. Miller.
Additional guitar on track 4 by Adam Finnegan.
All songs © 2018 Nequient.

℗ 2018 Nefarious Industries.


all rights reserved



Nequient Chicago, Illinois

Subgenre agnostic, d-beat fueled metallic chaos.


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