From Deep Within

From Deep Within


From Deep Within are three best friends, who in the words of Propagandhi "remember when we use to believe that music was a sacred place, not some fucking bank machine". Creating music of our own is an amazing outlet, and we love exploring all genres in hopes of always keeping the music fresh. :)


From Deep Within formed mid 2005 after being good friends for approximately 5 years. We live and breathe music, and due to this overwhelming passion for all things musical, and our closeness as friends the perpetual machine started turning and we were sucked into forming a band with no other option, and we didn't want another option. We try to go in a different path with every song that we write, we have a post hardcore song that ends in funk, we have 15 minute emotional rollercoaster of a song, and well really the list goes on as each song is a child with a mind of it's own. For lyrical direction we tend to focus on the issues that concern us, such as the function of our world, and the aspects of our lives. We know no musical restrictions and we ALL write our songs. Usually a passage of music is what we write because no words will ever do justice compared to the expression of the music we can create, which sets the theme of our songs without a word being spoken. We aren't like "other" generic bands because we think we transcend musical boundaries that a lot of bands set themselves. Our band is purely experimental in terms of where we can take the music, and hopefully the listener. We'd much rather leave the listener with an idea in their head for them to choose to explore(or not) than play some radio friendly song performed by someone who didn't write a note of the music, or a word of the lyrics. We'll play for free, which not a lot of bands in this town seem to want to do. We think music is a much smarter idea than religion as music ACTUALLY brings people together, something we believe religion fails at. We're influenced by a lot of bands, but we're not going to state them, as even then you would not be any better off at trying to imagine what we sound like. Anyway, from here on it's full steam ahead, whether we play pubs in our city for the rest of our lives or sold out stadiums around the world we will never let anything take our one true passion away.


Counting Down Seconds until the End of the World

Written By: From Deep Within

Neon-light stars hang above the streets alive with the whispers of people who thought they saw an angel in the city lights designed by profit vultures in neckties. They design culture for us to cherish and hold on to in the coldest nights. They can tell you how much they can sell your li(f)e for today. They’ll even gift wrap it for you if it means you’ll buy. They’ll attach a tacky card to the back of it free of charge, black ribbon tied neatly around it: "this is your life". There won’t be a cute saying or clever slogan. It’ll read simple: "All… for… nothing." You can tell me not to exaggerate, but each time you equate meaningful to trivial material possessions you exacerbate the problem that, of late, I have seen on TV screens and magazines. But somewhere hidden beneath this layer of flesh, hair and teeth there must be the illusive answer we’ve been looking for. If not, then I guess we should put an end to this neighbourhood of petty homes with manicured gardens and roll out lawns and just lie down, close our eyes and say goodnight… because there’s no point fighting this fight. Now our lives are formulated on cheque, savings or credit we can abandon hope of finding substance on this planet; just house after house of sedated families propped up on their couches and glued to their TVs, getting their RDI of soap-opera reality. Wake me up when the world is over.

The Witness

Written By: From Deep Within

Tap into our heads and spread your disease as we’re forced down on all fours for you to take as you please. You take away our ability to think for ourselves. Then the mass majority becomes plasticized and placed on a shelf. Fear feeds you and bleeds your wallets dry. But you’re too busy to see you’re living someone else’s life. Are we just fucking insane? Will conforming make you numb to your pain? Sometimes it’s hard to find solid ground and not to stumble as the poisoned world around us often crumbles. Most will never challenge the lies that they’re fed and the upper-teers will never count the tears that are shed. I’m not stupid ’cos I don’t expect things to change. I just want you all to see that life is too precious to give away to someone who doesn’t care for you or your well being at all. But it’s not too late for you to change. Take back your life. Take back your name.

A New Chapter

Written By: From Deep Within

(Turn the page;) erase the previous one from mind. (I can see) in that sparkle in the corner of her eye, (An innocence and) curiosity as she turns her head away. (The way our) eyes collide locks us in time as we sway. Our grip tightens. Our eyes widen. In darkness we’re binded so no one can witness. Holding each other in streets glistening from the rain lying dormant reflecting everything. Take my hand and I’ll guide you through these streets and take you somewhere completely new. A world you thought was non existent and together we’ll pave our future in it. Our grip tightens. Our eyes widen. In darkness we’re binded so no one can witness. Who says once a heart is broken it’s not able to mend? Piece itself back together and learn to love again. So let’s leave what has been behind us to decay and progress towards a future that’s not far away. And the only thing that I can tell you for sure is that a world without you is one I’m not meant for.

Grey Mass

Written By: From Deep Within

What has come to pass is a sad example of what we’ve become: a twisted world full of depravity where all the good has been taken. Confuse the issue. Click undo. Let’s just try this again. We’ll wipe our smiles away and await the day our deserter returns. Your answer is an expanding question. Everything we’ve wanted to know lies under the eyelids of the blind. Who can we trust? Where can we go? Overlapping thoughts start to separate to become painfully resonant and, as we wander through this place, it’s overgrown and desolate. As each day slips away, we’ll have to learn that the people rotting into street corners and fading away are all the same as us: waiting for their deserter. Dismiss the instructions they gave you: who to worship, what to think and feel. It’s been force-fed to us since birth but I’m still searching for the real.

Spades, Clubs and Diamonds

Written By: From Deep Within

Watch as I stammer, forever enamoured, and, as I clamber towards the light above, I’ll be your Prozac. I’ll be your heart attack. Will you take me back as I reach for you, my love? Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, I can’t stand this hollow feeling of derision and self-resentment. So here comes a shallow stab at sentiment. Please don’t say that you’re leaving me today. I know your heart is breaking so, please, just stay. It seems so very easy now to say I’m sorry. They call this ’romance’? A stupid high school dance where a fading chance propelled me to act? As we held hands I whispered, "Time stands still for us." Do you remember? We walked together on that September night. The embers glowed and we never considered whether they’d burn out. When they started to, I think that both you and I already knew that we’d gone too far to undo the damage a few words can do. I thought we were above the bullshit; in love. But what’s it made of, a steel fist and velvet glove? I still find myself without enough to keep me going. Love letter confetti litters the streets where lovers part and strangers meet while, in a field of dandelions and razor blades, we smile our way into this masquerade. "You knew who I was when we started this," I sigh. Why do we play this pointless game? It’s always the same. I whisper your name and it lingers on my tongue like the bitter taste of the wasteland this place has become, but so it goes.

Something Less Than Human

Written By: From Deep Within

Piece-by-piece, we’re falling apart on account of a bloodlust we can’t sate: our secret shame. Lives are lost and wars are fought in the name of something we can’t articulate. I think I know what’s in store; I’m afraid to say this story’s getting old. It’s a pointless game. I wonder what we’re fighting for, but each time I ask I’m always told the same: you don’t have to look too far to find an answer to that one. I guess it’s here in black and white, sprawled between the lines of the pages tattered and torn – crumpled from every time they’ve been shoved out of sight each time someone’s entered the room, the ink running from every tear cried while reading through the words each time. Tell me, is this what we’re fighting for? The right to say, "Our shit stinks better than yours"? How petty. How drab. How pointless. How completely and utterly useless. So don’t expect me to follow you. I’m sick of following these people who see in black and white, in "their way versus mine." You don’t have to look too far to find my answer to that one. There are a million shattered hearts here, and that’s where the truth lies. Behind the headlines, behind the corporate ties and payouts, behind the censored stats presented as facts for the cog-turning mass, there is just a plain and harsh coldness where we all regress into something less than human. And no one can fix it. No one can change it, yet we all accept it. I can see I’m wasting my time here. Clearly, none of this is getting through. A million people immersed in fear, and this is the best that you could do? This? I think it’s time to let it go. Let it go.

A Blueprint for a Cure

Written By: From Deep Within

We live in a battery cage, ever longing to become more deformed. We’re nothing more than subscripts of an existence we dare not long for. Which failing allowed us to be? A defect in natural selection? We’re nothing more than subjects in an experiment we never question. Every tax-payer’s dreams unfold like the wings of a butterfly, seeing the mechanisms turn and project the automatic stimuli; it’s conditioned reality to take away the effect of the real conditions we’ve forced ourselves to accept. Meanwhile, our false democracies in synchronisation with monotheocracies are laying the foundations of a warped existence with walls of cracked mirror, every inch efficient like a digitalised celestial sphere. Dictated by faux-emotion manifested in the contact we crave, we’re longing for the subtext beneath the concrete foundations we’ve paved. Humans are now commodities engrossed by a misbalanced pendulum. Wait and the tragedy spreads for we numbers below someone’s God, our vinculum. The gun lies on the vanity. The blood spirals down the sink. I seem to see the most in the fraction of a second when I blink. We have sealed our own fate yet we dare to claw at the coffin walls, awaiting the plastic we’ve deemed integral. We have our good intentions engraved on our hearts so we can superimpose them on our minds, an ever-illuminating testament to the expanding egotism of mankind. Now, if Christ ever returns he will find us ready to crucify him on golden arches. We love the ones that bring tears to our eyes but then have the audacity to say how hard it is. Let the oceans rise and destroy this whole fucking place.

Beyond this Picket Fence

Written By: From Deep Within

I find myself sitting alone in this place… so consider this a belated swansong. Clichéd and un-prophetic as it is, you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. Make me strong; hit me until I bite. Prove me wrong. Drain me until I’m white just like the individually wrapped pills you slip under your tongue. Can you see them basking in a radioactive sunset? They fall down and cast a permanent silhouette as they stand on this pinnacle and kiss. They hold hands. They cut each other’s wrists. Pick it apart while I hang low and shield my eyes. Maybe the truth is I just need to sit alone for a while and, in solitude, we can plaster on our smiles and laugh as I blink in time with the clicks. It’s always the same – alone while the clock ticks away each day as I hang low and shield my eyes. Let’s indulge in our confusion and pain. Let’s never step outside. Let’s never sleep again. Let’s pull the sheets over our heads and we’ll pretend we’re little kids again. Can you tell me why we never said it, like that last goodbye we always dreaded? Instead, we just wandered by and tried to forget it. But in the end, all we have left are apologies of this or that sort, scribbled down on crumpled pieces of paper or spoken in words that evaporate as soon as they’ve left the lips. Can we make it better with weak analogies or an excuse for every time I’ve fumbled? Looking out now, it all seems so absurd, searching frantically to make sense of all of this. We lost ourselves to the growing anxiety we swore we would never fall victim to, and while you stared up at me as if I was to blame, I couldn’t help but sense we’d both lost the same part – something precious from inside. Hang low and shield my eyes. Take me to that place where children play and I once touched God from the heights of a cold and lonesome metal frame or, failing that, just dim the lights so there’s absolutely no chance I will see the wasteland behind me. Come with me and we will touch the sky. Smile with me. Smile for me tonight. Bleed with me. Bleed for me tonight. Like a scarecrow, I stand here with open arms. Please, darling, turn around and tell me to calm down while I spit rose-red blood in my shaking palms. Love, keep me safe from harm and the winter cold. I hear them all say, "That’s life." Every second still seems to slip from my grasp. Everything we hold will slip through our fingers like the perpetual motion of an hour glass. I guess that’s the truth we’re all too afraid to admit. You bind me in light like a Christmas tree. I’ll meet you at night beyond distant mountains, upon the broken summit, and we can try to make sense of this otherwise cruel and haphazard universe. Look into my eyes and really see me. Who can say for sure why I cling so dearly to these nuances which will no doubt mean nothing when I slam the door for the last time and leave you to cross that picket fence to which we’re both running? Let me fall asleep, curled up in the backseat. What happened to boy who sat on his Dad’s knees – holding his thumbs like flight controls – and smiled, carefree? Some things just aren’t meant to be.


We have two demo's in rotation in the local scene, and are booked in @ Bergerk Studio's in August to record our debut EP, Which at this point looks like it will be pushind 40 mins, so dependant on how many songs we choose to put on it it could turn into an album. We're mastering it in America at this point.

Set List

We don't have a "typical" set list as such, we have songs that are performed more than others, but the order always changes to keep us and our "f(riend)ans interested. :P We generally in a set are able to push out between 5-8 songs dependent on the set time we're allowed which varies between 25-45 minutes where we are from.