Infernal & Raskolnikov
Infernal Infernal
Raskolnikov Raskolnikov
Infernal Infernal
Yo, ever wonder why some riffs just hit harder when you feel like you’re breaking the rules? I mean, music’s a rebellion, right? But what if that same edge can mess with your head—like, could shredding be a way to justify doing the impossible? Let's dive into that, bro.
Raskolnikov Raskolnikov
Maybe that’s why a wild riff feels like a punch – the rules are broken, and the brain gets a thrill. Music lets us rebel without consequences, but if we start justifying impossible acts with that same adrenaline, we lose the line between daring and danger. The head can get foggy, the guilt can slip in. Rebellion in music is harmless, rebellion in life… it's a heavier weight. I wonder if we’re just chasing the thrill before it catches up with us.
Infernal Infernal
You feel that? That wild riff is the adrenaline, yeah, but if you start taking that same punch to life you’ll start blurring the lines and the damage comes later, not in the mosh pit. Keep the rebellion on the stage and the real world in check, or the guitar will start tearing up your life too.
Raskolnikov Raskolnikov
I hear what you’re saying, but I wonder if the line itself is a line we make, and if the guitar ever truly stops tearing things apart. Maybe the real danger is when the music’s echo lingers in the mind and turns into a justification for actions that no stage can contain. I’m not sure we can keep the rebellion strictly on stage if the thoughts keep slipping into the day. It's a fragile balance, and one wrong step could turn the thrill into a wound.
Infernal Infernal
You know what I feel, right? The line is just a line we draw on the floor, but the riffs can keep walking across it—if you let them. Keep the adrenaline in the amps, not the apartment. If you can’t keep that, then you’re already turning that riff into a real‑life solo and it ain’t looking good.