A preview in the style of Dustgaze for the album "Secondary Proteins".
//////
"For thee, I shall construct a shrine of amber.
From there, you will never know happiness."
This is what that curator said when he passed away last year. The strange man housed a lot of the odd people he met in little amber coffins, much like flies. No one knows how he managed to do it, but many of the subjects in question appeared to be completely bald, male or female. When I approached him, I was naturally curious regarding his love of ritualistic arts, and he allowed me, after becoming his experiment for many years, to finally see his collection. Many of the amber subjects were imprisoned with clothes, but as mentioned before, lacked much of the hair on their heads. It was then I swore I saw one of the eyes of the woman closest to me swivel in my direction, as if it were studying me and saying "Oh you poor soul. Why couldn't you be like me?" The curator made it known to me that the absence of true happiness was in fact just the reverse polarity of itself, and not true grief.
"In lack of happiness, you will find ecstasy."
That is what he said to me.
Naturally, I have lived here for quite some time, contemplating over my inability to move. How did I get here again? I've completely forgotten. I certainly enjoy the scenery here, though. We stare at each other, day after day, with not a care in the world. After all, we are merely enshrined in amber, unable to do anything other than exist for the rest of time.
"For thee, I shall construct a shrine of amber.
From there, you will never know happiness."
This is what that curator said when he passed away last year. He was a good man. A very, very good man in ecstasy. Who knows where he is now?
//////
The numbers seven and eight are perhaps significant.
The first piece sounded like what I imagine the red eye storm of Jupiter sounds like with winds blowing hundreds of miles per hour that could shred through flesh like wet tissue. I heard a intriguing bass synthesizer in the background. The second track was more harsh noise with an angelic choir in the background and the final piece was a cacophony of machines. I really don’t like Harsh Noise Wall but I can’t deny that it is art because it can evoke an unsettling feeling. This was not to my taste Dionysus Virus
Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I love the beautiful sounds of this album but I don’t have a favorite song. I have a favorite title, it’s called “I Am An Idol, But You Can Call Me The Pope”.. p.s- The Pope Smokes Dope! Dionysus Virus
C. Diab describes “Exit Rumination” as “a sonic exorcism,” and its dark, swelling songs are equal parts catharsis and tension. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 26, 2018