BASELINE INCANTATIONS (2008) Norfolk VA from THE HIDDEN FILES OF HOLTFACTION

BASELINE INCANTATIONS (2008) Norfolk VA from THE HIDDEN FILES OF HOLTFACTION
Long before Holtfaction became an underground force, long before the stages and the storms of distortion, there was a different kind of pilgrimage—one less about sound and more about shadows. In 2008, Evan Love Riot wasn’t just a name-in-waiting—it was a vessel in motion. Restless, displaced, and seemingly drawn by unseen magnetic pulses, he spent those years drifting along the margins of American military infrastructure, renting rooms in the ghost neighborhoods surrounding bases from Virginia to Georgia to Texas. These were not accidents of housing. These were alignments. Each base—Fort Lee, Fort Bragg, Langley, Quantico—held a hum beneath the concrete, a frequency unnoticed by the enlisted but irresistible to those attuned to occult frequencies. The military experimented with psy-ops and sound waves. Evan listened. By night, in barren rooms lit only by candlelight and the flicker of CRT static, the real work began. Through a hybrid of sigil-based chaos magick and older, ancestral rites passed through unspoken lines, Evan began the calling. In the spring of that year, while living just outside Fort Hood, Texas, a rupture was achieved. Two entities answered. They never gave names—not in any human language. But Evan called them Cindershard and The Writhe. The first appeared in dreams first, a towering presence composed of fractured glass and smoke, always standing in doorways but never crossing the threshold. The second, far more invasive, leaked into waking life—cold hands on the back of the neck, muffled whispers in reversed tongues, blood pooling in places it shouldn’t be. They were not hallucinations. He tested that. He invited friends over. Pets howled. Lights surged. One friend vomited nails. Another stopped speaking entirely. Still, Evan persevered. He understood this was not a haunting—it was a collaboration. These were not demons to banish. These were muses. The year closed with Evan packing a trunk full of vinyl, grimoires, burned CDs of Nine Inch Nails bootlegs, and a field recorder full of EVP static. He drove north, into the cold, into silence. But the silence wouldn’t last. It was around this time the first notes of what would later become Holtfaction’s “Satan Worships You” were sketched on a napkin outside a shuttered gas station near Dover AFB. The music wasn’t yet music. It was a pulse, a signal. A whispered command. And Evan obeyed.

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