Sex Death Religion

by sex death religion

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The new album from Sex Death Religion is horror themed electronic dance music that surrounds the listener blending elements of EBM, Industrial, and House Music. This self titled album draws inspiration from horror films of the past and present. Think of it as a scary movie you can dance too.

Sex Death Religion has been compared to artist such as My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult, Lords of Acid, and Skrillex. Many of the songs are recorded at 128 bpm making them easy to mix into a modern EDM set.

High Fidelity vinyl release coming in 2016.

For the faint of heart: If the album price troubles you simply add to it.
After all, it is only a number muawaaahahahaha!


released December 22, 2015

Lord Caligari



all rights reserved


sex death religion Victoria, British Columbia

Sex Death Religion is a solo Electronic Music Project. Lord Caligari uses hardware synths and software to create dark dance oriented music.

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Track Name: Twitch (Rudimentary Peni cover)
Howard Phillips Lovecraft, heaven knows, had a talent for writing which was of no means proportion: only what he did with this talent was a shame, and a caution and an eldritch horror. If he'd only gotten the hell out of his auntie's attic and obtained a job with the federal writer's project of the WPA, he could have turned out guidebooks that would have been classics and joys to read forever. Only he stayed up there muffled up to the tip of his long gaunt New England chin against the cold which lay more in his heart than in his thermometer, living on 19 cents worth of beans a day, rewriting (for pennies) the crappy manuscripts of writers whose complete illiteracy would have been a boon to all mankind -ah, but life is a boon- and producing ghastly, grisly, ghoulish, and horrifying works of his own of man eating things which foraged in graveyards, of human/beastie crosses which grew beastlier and beastlier as they grew older, of gibbering Shoggoths and Elder beings which smelt real bad and were always trying to break through thresholds and take over; rugous, squamous, amorphous nasties abetted by thin, gaunt New England eccentrics who dwelt in attics and who were eventually never seen or heard from again. Serve them damn well right, I say. In short, Howard was a twitch, boys and girls, and that's all there is to it.