dyingstarsinmyeyes
The micro-tones of a string theory symphony; lovely(?) melodies(?)... you explode out into the center of a reality, and its outer reaches... the refrain repeats: I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE, and then what might be termed a response: (...)
Atmospheric Black Metal Cat
Every JG release is a tremendous journey sometimes requiring many listens to fully open up .
Favorite track: Refusing a Heavenly Mansion.
Useless blood swayed by sunken moons
The misty sun is grown a dimmer gold
Where beauty with her doom conspires
To tell in flame what death and beauty mean
In a burnt land of ashes
Winter and silence and woe have come
Semen dried into the silence of rock and mineral
Silence all-attending and supreme
The burdens of embodiment and contingency
Omnipresent delimiters
An obsidian tower at every quadrant
Blood and flesh are the parody of desire
Lust is the plea before the executioner
Endless moths swarming
Golems of spoiled food and excrement
I have seen vases and polished brass
Reflect black windows
The gardener’s lichen’s human scream
The influence of repulsion
A continuity of nothingness
Mind betrays body
Body betrays mind
See us from outside
Vast worms knotted by habit
Vast chains to hold us down
The failure of intimacy
The impossibility of power
The inexpressible loneliness of thinking
The beast obscured by black dusk
The murdered innocence of the sea
Flux and permanence
The wave’s black banners break endlessly
The wolves of water that howl along our coast
The live red flame of sunset eating the dead blue sky
The sun-spangled blood of the woods
Broken souls and bodies ruinous
Sick with desire and fastened to a dying animal
Meaningless as a burnt scroll
that blackens with the passing of the fire
Refusing a heavenly mansion
Raging in the dark
But in the deserts of night and cold and void
Gathered beneath a greater shadow's wings
I saw a city where each house stood
On a rock between black seas
Solitude may rust your words
I cannot find a way through love and through
To lose this ever-aching loneliness in vaster solitude
Only a locked door
The long remorse
Vanished incommunicable moods
The dolor in the bells of blinded lands
The thousand-chorded monotones of pain
Locked doors without keys
Prisons without and prisons within
Labyrinths of newsprint
Coiled and rotting in your cave
The black wastes of the evening sky
Desolate oceans, and the light of lonely plains
What in our lives is burnt in the fire of this?
A burnt space through ripe fields
about
Notes:
"Semen Dried Into the Silence of Rock and Mineral" is a line from Anaïs Nin's House of Incest. "The Inexpressible Loneliness of Thinking" is a line from the essay "On Poetic Truth" by H.D. Lewis, sometimes mistakenly attributed to Wallace Stevens; I confess that I haven't read the essay and got the line from Marshall Boswell's Understanding David Foster Wallace. I regard this song title as the best I'm likely to come across and I sometimes lament having used it already. "Refusing a Heavenly Mansion" is a line from Yeats. "What in our lives is burnt/in the fire of this?" is a line from "August 1914" by Isaac Rosenberg. Several lines on this album are appropriated from the poetry of Clark Ashton Smith.
"One-man Missouri avant-garde black-metal project Jute Gyte uses guitars retrofitted to play 24-tone equal-tempered scales—meaning he's got twice as many notes in an octave as an ordinary guitarist. His songs teem with unearthly clusters of seasick dissonance, so that they sometimes sound like early Sonic Youth with blastbeats and shrieking. Unfamiliar microtonal intervals create intricate acoustic interference patterns, so that tones shimmer and dislocate. Ears accustomed to Western 12-tone polyphony can barely process these sounds—they sink into your skull like red-hot stones into ice. It's like you're listening to a tape at the wrong speed, or to music warped by a black hole's gravitational lens on its way here from several galaxies away." - Chicago Reader
"You'll recognize the use of microtonal riffing if you've experienced last year's Discontinuities, only rather than repeating that album, he's interpreted the technique into a more unpredictable, angular geometry that throws you curve balls in almost every track on the album. Songs are divided into harsher passages of insectoid, bristling dissonance, or springier and cleaner riffs set off against distorted dementia, with the tempos fluxed between the faster black metallic rushes of his prior works and a slower, creepier miasma of impenetrable doom that is compounded by the fresh intervals being picked and strummed. I couldn't even begin to accurately compare this to anything outside of Jute Gyte's own body of work, but strange word puzzles like 'Philip Glass being filtered through the unwashed demos of the stranger LLN bands' seem to pop into my imagination as I'm listening." - From the Dust Returned
"Kalmbach plays a microtonal guitar, which allows him to lever unbelievable amounts of dissonance into his compositions — so much that it’s easy to forget that he’s playing a guitar at all. And yet his songs are weirdly compelling, thanks in part to his awesome vocals and lyrics. This is seriously some of the most insane-sounding metal I’ve ever heard." - Stereogum
"Vast Chains takes all the tropes of black metal and transforms them into something super psychedelic and avant, the tunings, the arrangements, the melodies, fans of groups like Deathspell Omega, Blut Aus Nord, who traffic in woozy, slippery riffage, and blurred blackness, Jute Gyte takes that experimentalism a step further... the guitar parts and riffs are so odd, so damaged and atonal, sometimes they conjure utter beauty, lush lovely sonic swells, other times, they're so warped they almost make your eyes water. Opener "Semen Dried Into The Silence Of Rock And Mineral", lays it all out, sounding a bit like a slow motion Mesuhuggah, or a super spare, 20th century Deathspell, the sound chugging and churning, creeping and slithering, the vibe more doomy really than black, the arrangement confoundingly mathy, intricate and constantly shifting, and the guitars, holy shit, even when the heaviness is peeled back, leaving just some haunting clean guitar shimmer, those parts somehow sound even MORE strange and alien." - Aquarius Records
credits
released February 3, 2014
Created Summer 2011 - Summer 2012
Thanks to A. Nin, C.A. Smith
What more can you say after reading the abhorrent bio of this album that tells the vision behind it? This is the black vomit of Tchornobog: abyssal violation of your senses and pineal gland and you are not the same person after encountering this multidimensional god. 𝙅𝙤𝙚 𝙎𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙡𝙡
Imagine if God took bad cosmic acid, and then proceeded to die from a nightmarish trip in which He realized He was Satan... That's basically this record, which means you should buy it. dyingstarsinmyeyes
A foreboding black-doom metal dirge, meditating on a dark world caked in ash, resulting from all the Earth’s nuclear arsenal detonating at once. Bandcamp Album of the Day Jun 14, 2018