From the moldy basements of forgotten rehearsal rooms and the outer edges of collective delusion, Speakers are meant to be blown. My Disease crawl back into the spotlight like a pack of confused, half‑deflated rock dinosaurs who refuse to accept extinction.

With loads of new songs, A perfect overture for the impending end, which no one will survive. No fun parties or qute Little memes, no fucking ressurection, just a black empty void, we´re fucked and thats it.

Armed with distortion, questionable decisions, and the combined life wisdom of several decades of doing everything wrong, just crank up the volume and enjoy the ride