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Palace In Thunderland create music for the 21st century, plain and simple. Embracing a sound simultaneously 30 years ahead of their time AND 30 years behind their time, the band embraces influences such as Blue Cheer, Black Sabbath, Pink Floyd, King Crimson, The 13th Floor Elevators, Hawkwind, Rush, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, Captain Beyond, Pentagram, and Monster Magnet.

The four-piece specializes in fuzzed out riffs, esoteric arrangements, dual guitar harmonies, and an overall versatiltiy that few bands can match. To top it all off, the songwriting is top-notch; this is a group of guys that know how to write a good hook and skullfuck it straight into the listener's cerebellum where it can fester into a permanent psychedelic infection.

Live, the band lays down a blanket of fuzz, feedback, and aggression as they spin their tales of the occult, existentialism, altered consciousness, and general alienation. Not for the meek, that's for damned sure.

The new album The Apostles of Silence is written. Soon it shall be done. The world only knows what awaits then...

Isolated abdominal structures ad astram ethereal isotopes, They flail neurotic dynamics, our captors feed our Nights from the reflections of shattered mirrors, seared flesh And charred bone Bleached salt white Picked clean by herds of desert birds and Arachnid oasis Ariadne is a slave to the Spindle, the Fates heard the slightest pindrop and Turn their indifferent ears toward Jupiter's center Of gravity, Discarding their Disposable graven Images as one full third of the stars fall in symphonic cacophony And then Silence... He heard the voice and Drew the knife, Yet the Sun was never sacrificed, its device of Internal combustion was never exposed, the spirit of the Void composed his thoughts Thorough, dominant, decisive, Secure in his device He would not forget As his synapse regrets the child-like succession He usurped his agnostic arrogance, overstepped his Earthly limitations, and Tapped his heels together in a series of three. He beat a matching replica of his heartbeat on his Knee, clasping the erratic Moonbeams as they flew through the vicious, spiteful SKy, only to shatter and splinter upon the Echoes of the stranger's familiar Goodbye.