Suicide of soul

Nine Bodies is deep and dark and despairing. Lined up, wrapped up, souls up. Brilliant and unique. Fallen Asleep in an Armageddon, is kind of how we live our everyday lives. I think it's happening now und wir sind die Schlafwandler, to quote Hermann Broch. A prophetic German author. Excellent post-apocalyptic rock sounds. For Stranger has a lovely intonation to it, and flows beautifully in its dark way, we are all strangers to each other because we fear becoming involved. This is a tribute to that perhaps? Nice piano work layered into the mix, with its slightly off-key structure. An ace of a track. Mellow shadows flit from ear to ear and into the spaces between your cerebral convolutions. Hemispheric, affecting both sides of your brain.

March is the harshness of being carted off to the Gulag prisons. Your fellows dropping by the wayside and left in the snow for the carrion crow. And in March it's only thirty degrees below and a hundred leagues to go, before incarceration in the name of a nation. A state you cannot contemplate. God Has Died becomes obvious to a person in such a situation. How could it explain it otherwise, when the wise do other things? Your only solace writing poetry with pieces of burnt sticks onto walls that will be the only testimony to existence and death. A wandering track of wondering back and forth, while you are sent North. Very avant garde, and truly post-modern. Fantastic stuff! Very moving and evocative in my miniscule mind, compared to a God that has died.

Insomnia is a form of self-torture that you inflict upon yourself, unconsciously, when your conscience gets the better of you. It might not even be personal, but have a bearing on the state of the world and its collective consciousness. An exquisitely dark melange of sounds and loose structure. Another great track of torment. Frankness is my best friend and worst enemy, it loses me companions by the bucket load but it is a test of fortitude and honesty in a relationship, that is harsh and stark, but I feel necessary. Sorts the chaff from the wheat, and this is wheat, from a country where wheat has been such a treasured commodity. And they also have untold reserves of natural oil, so watch where the bombs are landing now, preparing the way for the pipelines. Taliban, Taliban, catch them if you can. How's that for frankness?

In the Yellow House is a wonderful piece of electrorock, which fascinates the ear channels with its scaling of notes in counterpoint to the dark underlayer. Very nice to hear and a track that fills you with trepidation, as if it represents the isolation cell in a prison camp. Wonderfully disturbing, even using a chunk of even more disturbing silence, that is represented as the end. Dream wakes you up, strangely enough as you have been now lulled into a false sense of security, but you wake into a dream of reality that confuses the senses. The bells attached to the perforated veil tinkle as you slip in and out of your sleepwalking nightmare. I love it. Isolation does that for you. Behind a Wall, pounds against your frontal lobes beautifully and seals your fate as a listener. Beyond comprehension, I know. Just stay there and you might not be hit by a stray bullet of belief in that what they are doing is the right thing. Excellent listening, and not for the faint-hearted.