by Black Harvest

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Wxmaggot thumbnail
Wxmaggot Put any tag you want on this...blackened death, melodic death, black, death metal...none of these tags can prepare you for the onslaught of metal on display here. Technical yet catchy. These guys know how to keep the listener on their toes, waiting for the next awesome melody, blast, screech, and moment of clarity. Great album. Buy it. Favorite track: 04 - Salt And Sand.
Gematriel thumbnail
Gematriel Do you like Pink Floyd ? Give a listen to "Your words are made of gold".
Dean Vincent
Dean Vincent thumbnail
Dean Vincent To blend styles as well as this takes talent. For 9 whole tracks this album takes you on an absolute journey. Thick with technical edged death metal yet full of grim black metal vocals at the same time. Intricate at times and downright scathing at others, an extraordinary experience. Avant garde without being showy or flashy, just very well put together. Favorite track: 09 - Your Words Are Made Of Gold.
flightoficarus (Metal Trenches)
flightoficarus (Metal Trenches) thumbnail
flightoficarus (Metal Trenches) Another DM group not content to ape their contemporaries, this is some unique-sounding brutality. A brand of technical blackened death that incorporates a surprising ear for melody. The bass tone is like a Panzer rolling over collapsing steel. It's perfection."The Beggar's Song" dials up the black metal with stunning atmospheric guitar melodies, piano, and choral synths to break up grindier tracks like "Aftermath." Full review Metal Trenches: metaltrenches.com/reviews/harvest-time-130 Favorite track: 07 - The Beggar's Song.
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    Jewel case with full color folding insert. Artwork and layout by Kishor.

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released February 13, 2014

All music written by Kishor except tracks 2, 5, and 6, featuring additional guitar and arrangement contributions by Russ Cowen. All lyrics, programming, instrumental/vocal performances, and recording by Kishor Feb-Dec 2013. Mastered by Brad Boatright at Audiosiege, Portland, OR Jan 2014. Artwork by Kishor. Photography by Aaron Ray-Crichton.



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Black Harvest Lowell, Massachusetts

Black Harvest formed in Brooklyn, NY in 2002, and recorded and self-released several demos before signing to independent Massachusetts-based label Oak Knoll Productions for the release of "White Light Came Down"(2005) and "Ingrate"(2011). Their music is an eclectic blend of death and black metal with progressive and technical influences. Main songwriter Kishor currently resides in Lowell, MA. ... more

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Track Name: 01 - A Form Of Blindness
A form of blindness drove me here, into your arms, in a reckless moment. A kind of pity kept me here past my days, as kind as chains on a slave. Would it come as a shock, to find your bird has flown, having rediscovered flight in the grip of the noose? You're singing in the dark: a tether to your door. A second of remorse, as innocence creeps in. A shout in vain. The bastard's mother, you took nothing in. There's deception at the heart of you, cold heart, unbereaved. Blood on the ground beneath you, leaking down your legs to poison the bare earth, wherever you go. I'm never far behind. An unwilling father, you're everything I asked. You gave to me the flesh for life. Moving and breathing, the red flower in my veins; completely dead beneath the surface - flat eyes, hollow chest. You're raging at the dawn, a voice to crack the sky. Wherever I might go, you drag me by the neck. Did it come as a shock, when the collar, that fit so tight it would never come undone, was a means of escape, finally? I've left you far behind. In a secret life, we never met, and I had joy more than anything I've known. There's a secret home, down a thousand steps. Its door will open once, and shut me in alone.
Track Name: 02 - Host
My eyes in your face, staring at the wall. Here is where a grown man becomes a child again. It's just as well you've laid down your burdens, after such a long life. After so many years when you did nothing but consume. Nothing in this world rests easy at night. Your heart slows down, but you're bleeding out faster, drained, an empty sack. The pattern that you are is fragile. The pattern's all you are, and it dissolves. And I am a willing host for anything that's left: one quarter of your blood, the closest you will come to eternal life. And in good time, we'll circle round like crows, an open-mouthed farewell, ripping you apart. Your voice in my throat, your tremors in my arms: the disease of the father forced upon the son. I have finally found a home.
Track Name: 03 - Confined
Nothing in my house but cold words for a long life, abandoned to my need. Nothing in my house but long nights in a cold bed, hollowed out by grief. One second in the shadow would freeze my veins. One moment in the sunlight would burn me away. So my silence has lasted years. Can you hear me now? One word to fall, light as a feather, and bring your father down. That's all I have left. A bitter end to a joyful life. That's all I have left, one breath into the next and then it stops. That's all I have left. I see it coming and I cannot look away. I could have had all of it, but I turned my back on it, and the worms tunneled in my blood. Enter me, feed on me. My skin is not my own. Enter me, feed on me, and die without a home. Til then there's no relief. The mind is set to wander, while the body lingers on. There's nothing in my house. A door has been thrown wide. The thief has come and gone. And the worst part of it is that I'm still inside of it, and I can see you all from here, but never say a word. I'm fed through a tube, and shit into a tube, in the corner of a room that I'll never, ever leave, ever again. Every kind word I hear is from a stranger. Every day I'm washed, turned on my side, and left to rot. Every day I'm more like an animal, confined inside. That's all I have left - a painful end, though it come in silence. That's all I have left. Closing doors and distant voices. Here is all I need, drugged until my eyes glaze over. I remember who you are, though you've forgotten me by now. Minutes pass like days. Every night's the same. Before we're divided, look at me once more. I am not the father you adore. First my body withers, then it burns, and then to the river near my home I will return. A cloud is on my vision, but the road is clear: you can leave right now, and I will die right here.
Track Name: 04 - Salt And Sand
Come, wash your wounds. Rest your bleeding feet. Though you've broken every promise, closed every door, wasted every gift, come take what you can. Wash your wounds with salt and sand. No matter how clean you are, you'll never be clean enough. Your feet pollute the ground. Your breath poisons the air. Your body's best described with words better left unsaid. You're more than half dead. No, you can never be clean enough - but still, come wash your wounds in this stream, where as a child you would sit and dream, though dreams aren't strong enough. Your day has come and gone. Stand in the circle, naked to the waist, locked in your own embrace, wallowing in filth. Remain under the water till it once again runs clear, and takes you far from here. At your approach, the earth would shift. Leaves scatter to the sky. Grass and flowers die. I praise your name with a million voices, raised in a song of shame, to keep the dead in the ground, your body on the ground, your face held to the ground, while I hammer the nail through. Then later, I'll wash your wounds with salt and sand. Oh, how you lay there, king of birds and stones. Oh, how you lay there, graceless and cold, a shell, a piece of meat. You stabbed the sacred heart. You bit the sacred hand. You'll die in your own shit, but first you'll live in pain. No matter how you wash, you'll never be clean again.
Track Name: 05 - Aftermath
Part 1: In the aftermath of the kill, they scatter, like leaves and ashes would, as he drops from heaven like a stone. Cursed, slow, unwitting, you alone: left standing in his path. I blame the course of things, that took you from my side - a shadow cast on the ground for a moment, and then it's gone, and no word, no act, no hope, nothing remains. Worms for your flesh, rats for your bones, and a stone with your name on it. I blame the hidden things, that attack from above, that live to strike us down, that hunger with no remorse, that tore you from my side without a sound. Part 2: Same mistake every day - drinking the poison down to the dregs. Sinking in, sinking deep, subtle as a whisper. This wound's not the same as any other cut. No matter the skill of the hand, no matter the will of the mind, it will never heal. Your wound, your shame: it works like a drug inside you, but it spreads like a disease. Finally, you'll climb up to the greatest height, like a ladder into the sky, outlined in black smoke against the sun, one breath before it's blown away. What have you done?
Track Name: 06 - Holy Blood
Holy blood, a gift of overwhelming grace, only for those who abase themselves and kneel at your command. One nation under fools who've forgotten how to stand. You're crawling in a circle, chained inside since birth. Fall inwards from this point? You'll never reach the earth. There's nothing at the center: no god, no soul. A blind, voiceless mouth, opening to the sky at random. Suck down the shit nourishment you sought from above. Your father's house has many rooms, but no room there for me. When I stand outside the walls, your iron gates seem weak. Give me bread and coin, and lock the door behind, focused inward on the divine. Stay in that circle till you rot. Standing at this height, no miracle of mind, but a circle made of lies, where the deaf entrap the blind. There's nothing at the center.
Track Name: 07 - The Beggar's Song
Whosoever would offer sustenance, I come as a beggar before you. Some are called to the table who bring wine, fruit, or tender flesh - a feast for kings. There are those of us who come with only hunger. We'll starve to death unless we learn to sing. A fool before your court, groveling in the dirt for every meal. Hold me down at the right moment. Nobody comes when I call. This cruelty is necessary - no one else will ever see, no one else will ever know. No one else will ever know what the truth is. Now see what you've done? Now see what you've done? Tasted of my flesh. I'm in the circle now, and everything is connected: my bones inside your skin. As daylight's child, I was strong. Here, every night, I'm dead on my back. Though everything's the same, and you'll never hear my words, I'm closer to you now than I've ever been. Some are called to the table out of need. Some of us would have been happier alone. Are you now unready, or unwilling, to eat the harvest you have sown? If I return to you with a cover on my eyes, treat me gently. And though I seem a beggar in disguise, let me in, and let me have my fill. If I come as a wolf before your door, make me welcome. But afterwards, if once you turn away, as if you never saw me - I swear you never will.
Track Name: 08 - Echo In Dead Space
In the end, that's all it takes: the choice to be numb, the chance to forget what little might have been. It's not from the sky; it's born from within, ephemeral as vapor. From the back of the mind to the tip of the tongue, inevitably changes. When I say blood is a chain; when I say death is a gift; when I say I'm not coming back - what you should hear is a song from a cage. Move my lips in sacred shapes. Everything is a twisted echo in dead space. It has to be enough, because it's all there is. Writhe, mouth on mouth,a velvet tongue. Stick it in: a brand new sacrament every time. I remember you well, although you're gone, lost to the years. There's a stranger in your skin. Up in the sky, it hangs likes a curse, a scar in the center of my eye. And like a fire, it consumes, though it's burning miles away, and every shred of hope, every scrap of warmth has been denied. I rise from my worthless sleep, a worm on the ground at your feet. If miles and years melt away, I see you shining high, clear as the dawn. I should die that day. It hurts for a second and then it's gone.
Track Name: 09 - Your Words Are Made Of Gold
Your words are made of gold. On a summer day, they fly up to the sun, and they're gone away. My words are made of iron. They pierce me through my feet, and hold me to the ground. I'll never leave. I'll never grow up, and I'll never grow old, but I'll learn how to bow down and do what I'm told. Your bitter, cold voice is so loud in my ear; god, I wish you were here, wish you were here. I know what it takes, to prove I never lied: if I kill myself right here, will you believe me? Well, it turns out I'm blind, and it turns out I'm weak, and that everyone's right to be laughing at me. A secondhand ring from a secondhand man, and I'll die in the street, die in the street.