"This is precisely the direction underground black metal in the States needs to take: textured, creative and intelligent without shunning the conventions that were originally conceived overseas by the genre forebears....It's time to start talking about this project with the same reverence once given to US underground mavens like Xasthur and Leviathan." - From the Dust Returned
Delirious experimental black metal combining densely chromatic walls of guitar, strange time signatures and polyrhythms, alternating black and death vocals, midtempo math-rock, psychedelic interludes, ambient synth, dodecophony, and an obsession with age, decay, and loss.
released 01 May 2012
Created July 2010 - September 2010
VI is based upon the row 0,1,9,4,5,T,2,3,8,6,7,E
Track Name: The Hopelessness of Passing Time and the Melancholy of Unalterable Past Events
An indescribable sadness hung over
These shifting forms and structures.
The hopelessness of passing time
And the melancholy
Of unalterable past events.
Quiet over the hilltops now,
Woodland birdsong ceased.
beneath the sky I stand again.
Wait, weary one:
Soon, like these,
We may also cease.
Track Name: Age, Seperation, and Cold
When winter comes
Where shall I find
The shadows of the earth?
The walls stand
speechless and cold.
In the wind
The weather-vanes rattle.
Track Name: A Wind Upon the Open Fields
The painful discrepancy
Between the ideal and the real.
The melancholic nostalgia of Brahms.
A wind upon the open fields
Like a burnt offering.
The banished one listens
In his night-dark lair
To the songs of the ancient ones.
An old, old fable haunts me,
And will not let me rest.
Track Name: The Cry Essaying the Waters
The cry essaying the waters;
The autumn gale that bites the vine
And announces the new wine.
In the forest I dreamed of
One hundred blossoming roses.
A scent of sunshine
Shields what is yet to unfold.
Track Name: The Irreality of the Past
The irreality of the past,
Obscured by reverberations in all directions
Calling from across the rotting sea
From an endless desert
where nothing can grow.
Smothered by what, in the mind,
has grown so powerful and unbearable.
Something so long dead.
Track Name: Wastelands Ruled by Ruined Kings
A plague of nostalgia for a fictive past,
Not merely dead, never born,
is the most desperate form of escapism.
Accident of birth, the pride of the insipid.
Blood still runs, rose-tinted,
Spilling on the red rock
In starvation and waste
and broad arching melody.
Wastelands ruled by ruined kings.
Curses never lifted.