The Herd

Brutalitops is not a band. There is no drummer. There is no bassist. There is a guy, somewhere, who taught a machine to scream about dinosaurs and thought that was a complete thought. For the record: the songs aren't about dinosaurs. The songs are about awful, stupid shit. The photos aren't real. The masks aren't real. The riffs aren't real. You clicked a link about a fake triceratops metal band and now you're reading marketing copy that was also generated by a computer, for a product that does not exist, aimed at a person — you — who the computer is fairly confident is also not real. Anyway. It's extremely heavy. Bring earplugs. There is nothing to bring them to. Buy a ticket. There is no show. You'll come anyway. You have nothing else going on.

Lyrically and musically, Brutalitops exalts Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior.

The Nobodies

Rex

Vocals

Loves dog. Hates you. Screams like she's being evicted from her own body.

Cuz

Guitar/Vox

From Texas. Is sorry about that.

Zan

Bass

Bio deleted. Zan knows what Zan did.

Tex

Horns/Noise

Foreign, or something. From somewhere.

Rob

Drums

Plays drums. Arms. Legs. Head.

Listen (At Your Own Risk)

Debut EP: not out yet. Streaming: nowhere, yet. There is, somehow, a YouTube channel. Listen anyway. Your taste can't get any worse.

Shows

Merch

Merch would require a real product, made by a real company, for real money, sold by a real band. This clears none of those bars. Not for sale. Not for anything, really. Go buy a real band's shirt, you freeloader.

Contact

These links technically work. Nobody will answer. Nobody likes you.