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Свежий альбом старой норвежской black metal группы, удививший меня неожиданным изменением музыкального курса в сторону модного ныне авангардного джаза.
Следует заметить, что кислотно/джазовый вирус поразил не только основной состав группы - дуэт (Alexander Nordgaren и Svein Egil Hatlevik), но и таких легендарных и уважаемых на black metal сцене личностей как Гарм (Ulver, Arcturus), Сверд (Ulver, Arcturus), Хеллхаммер (Arcturus, Mayhem), Маньяк (Mayhem), которые также приняли активное участие в записи данного альбома.
О преимуществах, либо недостатках, такого подхода к музыкальному творчеству, а музыка, как я уже и сообщил, представляет собой джаз, сдобренный электроникой и "сырыми" глуховатыми гитарами, можно спорить бесконечно, но следует заметить, что громадный опыт исполнителей все же дает о себе знать высоким качеством представленной на альбоме музыки, пусть далеко не black металической, но также далеко и не попсовой.
В целом, рецензируемая работа Fleurety довольно сильно напоминает альбом активно экспериментирующих с джазом итальянцев Ephel Duath - "The Painter's Palette".
Вывод: Анализ "Department of Apocalyptic Affairs" еще раз подтвердил, что к середине первого десятилетия 21 века всеобъемлющий авангардно/джазовый синдром охватил абсолютное большинство легендарных норвежских black metal музыкантов прошлого века. |
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furnished with electric chairs
the faked generosity of one instant
the phallic turns fallacious
blistered bindfoldeye curses
the constant melvining of one's metabolism
obscene obsession correct relief
the call-girl turns carnivorous
relentlessly spinning the litany
we are born to be exterminators
department of apocalyptic affairs
furnished with electric chairs
[Karianne Horn: voice]
[Hellhammer: drums]
[Knut Magne Valle: guitar solo]
[Mari Solberg: saxophone]
[Per Amund Solberg: bass]
[Alexander Nordgaren: guitars]
[S. E. Hatlevik: synthesisers]
2. Face In A Fever
met up with my friend
the sexist in exile
on a tight leash
he keeps the vermin
that gave me the creeps
together 'till the end
us and whatever's addictive
in a pair of tight jeans
the gossamer latex that separated two bodies
what we've got here
is a face in a fever
from the mouth comes the virus
nothing's made cleaner
i've seen the one-track mind
however just in profile
he keeps a shocking feast
leads his women to anxieties and sweets
he is the iguana man
always this repulsive
always accompanied by screams
he spits the virus at the one who sleeps
what we've got here
is a face in a fever
From the mouth comes the virus
nothing's made cleaner
[Einar Sjursи: drums]
[Carl August Tidemann: guitar solo]
[Sverd: synthesiser solo]
[Mari Solberg: saxophone]
[Per Amund Solberg: bass]
[Alexander Nordgaren: guitars]
[S. E. Hatlevik: synthesisers & voice]
3. Shotgun Blast
he's got a whip-scarred centerfold
in the trunk of his car
pocket full of spices
to go with the sore
it's he who's got
the crania and the remnants
what would he have done
if suffocation wasn't portable
pages of the memory
torn out disappeared
as did the severed limbs
buckshots conflagrated the arteries
in a 210 bpm cardiac march
a carcass of alcohol enraptures
in a 60/40 combustion/evaporation
[Maniac: voice]
[Tore Ylvisaker: computer]
[Per Amund Solberg: bass]
[A. Nordgaren: guitars]
[S. E. Hatlevik: synth & drums]
4. Fingerprint
arrest me I talk in riddles
I cause stress and muscular cramps
nervous exaggeration after the toxictonic
telepathically broadcasts an appearance of one's own
one's been given a doppelganger
who unlike oneself doesn't fake enthusiasms
the shallshock of one instant
and the indiscretionnovice unzips his fly
he'll never know what hit him
I know the detectives found
the fingerprint of the universe
[Karianne Horn: voice]
[Tore Ylvisaker: computers]
[Carl August Tidemann: guitar solo]
[Per Amund Solberg: bass]
[Alexander Nordgaren: guitars]
[S. E. Hatlevik: synthesisers & drums]
5. Facets 2.0
underneath the skin
a glittering ocean
the waves and the pulsating soil
a spine bent into perverse angles
projected on a screen
a charming grimace
i shot my thoughts at you
dreading the recoil's impact
the unrest of one instant and the amphorae were pulverized
projected on a screen
the imaginary silhouettes
i plunged into the fountain's crystalline waters
without dreading the clash with the surface
you stole from me my riches and my tremors
projected on a screen
an anaemic body
i threw the explosive caresses
back at the smileress
and they
bounced
[Heidi Gjermundsen: voice]
[Carl-Michael Eide: drums]
[Mari Solberg: saxophone]
[Per Amund Solberg: bass]
[Alexander Nordgaren: guitars]
[S. E. Hatlevik: synthesisers & voice]
6. Last-Minute Lies
vexed with wires and curled up like snakes
we all without aim stumbled and staggered
through the craters and pools
that were oh so characteristic
of the landscape on which
we to our surprise discovered facial features.
once I was given a bottle filled with sparkling anxiety.
it did not quench my thirst.
it became an unbecoming addiction.
(and in an
abbreviated manner one could say that in
accordance to tradition we exhibit our
addictions in the display window to
affront possible bypassers and to arouse
aggression and inertia.)
someone cast himself into self-portrayal vainly
hoping the result would accentuate the featurelessness of his face
disappointed he swam in the low-budget luxuries that devour
with omnivorous appetite would you lie for me I had a rusty nail
hammered through my temple and I'm not sure if
what I felt was pain let me introduce you to my friend the pain in-exile
let me spray you with last-minute lies the screens oh so cleverly designed to banish
boredom brought reports of an accident in the shooting gallery if
I were a killer you would not have lived to know at the ends of one's arms
there are instruments of destruction confusingly similar to hands the imperative
of the evening is sever would you die for me would you spy for me thank you
I've had enough now let me evaporate and join a less tedious cloud the delicacies
that scorched the palate and made the tongue swell
fresh from the machinery of the filth-factory:
a malfunctioning device: COGITO.
upon seeing it one shrieks,
with jealousy intoxicated
and with the almost
theatrical obscenery appalled-angered.
the crumbling the crumpling the collapsing
mild and sour and misplaced
as were the cherub's smiles.
pornography has brought us
where technology couldn't.
[Vilde Lockeit: voice]
[G. Playa: voice]
[Tore Ylvisaker: computer]
[Per Amund Solberg: bass]
[Alexander Nordgaren: guitars]
[S. E. Hatlevik: synthesisers, drums & voice]
7. Barb Wire Smile
as in the fairytales the eerietales
the scarytales the oh so weary tales
there is a place where the outdated sweethearts go as in becoming one
with the vicious whirlwind
as in couldn't have cared less as in courting the barbwire smile as in where will
that grinnygrin be when you're waltzing about in stenchdrench
as in how could you be so careless as in watching
the spleenscreen
the snowscreen there's snow on my screen
and it's the story of a lifetime as in there is a carnage
where the dead darlings go as in i wouldn't i don't wanna'
as in I'm not there as in another sphere
as in not being a victim not a superstar
as in as if
[Heidi Gjermundsen: voice]
[James Morgan: computer]
[Mari Solberg: saxophone]