1. |
Overture
04:39
|
|||
2. |
Cleobis and Biton
03:18
|
|||
|
Cleobis and Biton,
Fell asleep never to wake again.
The final bliss of ambrosial sleep,
Mother Hera kissed them on their cheeks.
The flowers bloomed as they took the yoke.
The gods sung and the wind, it spoke.
The glistening gold sea flooded with emotion.
To die in the moment of highest devotion.
The blood flowed harshly and darkness veiled their eyes.
The greatest gift was sent by the silver sky.
The highest blessing a mortal can obtain.
The purest clouds broke with the softest rain.
|
||||
3. |
Fading Hue
04:46
|
|||
|
If you stare long enough,
There’s nothing human left.
Reduced to mere particles,
Was there ever even flesh?
To see with childish eyes.
To see with the mind’s eye.
Everything is once again falling apart in the most remarkable fashion.
The hue fades away.
the Organic colours,
the Earth tones,
the Emulsion of matter,
Yearning for home.
The atmosphere
Condenses into a stream.
The liquid melts
Into a dream.
The dawn breaks like punctured skin.
A hot flash melts me from within.
The petals unfurl, the nectar is sweet.
All perspiring in this heat.
|
||||
4. |
The Fool
03:24
|
|||
|
I was traveling in an automobile through a nondescript English town, I think we were on holiday.
I opened my eyes in Reykjavik, except I’ve never been there before. How could I know?
It was fashioned like a Mediterranean city, like Lisbon if I remember correctly.
Except it was all Sigur Ros themed, and I had forgotten the names of the members.
It was Mells, Somerset and I was meeting family friends.
We went to get a drink from a line of taps on a wall that doesn’t exist.
He laughed at me when I drank,
And a girl told me I had a rigid face
And I still don’t know what she means
And I still don’t know why he laughs.
I asked for a nightmare and I got it
Not the way I wanted.
Was I a fool to cling to dreams?
Or is there more to them than what it seems?
I took a high-speed train with a familiar girl but I forgot her name.
Some guy was picking on a small child and I knew him rather well.
I fought an Albert Camus lookalike in a quarry.
Why must I forget, as soon as I have awoken?
Mum wanted to know about the man in the red room;
The white tiles went black, and the man went mad.
We learned about fishes in biology in german, or was it in french?
I asked for a nightmare and I got it
Not the way I wanted.
Was I a fool to cling to dreams?
Or is there more to them than what it seems?
|
||||
5. |
Nature
04:03
|
|||
|
We lay in a bed of hemlock,
You kissed me between the ferns.
Your mind was of the most beautiful matter,
You taught me all that I had learned.
Foxglove and forget me nots,
Willowherb and wintercress.
Your eyes were azaleas,
A sweet but poisonous caress
The carnal knowledge,
The sacred fruit.
You blossomed like a flower,
The sweetest nectar, but a bitter root.
The earth was torn up.
The tree cut down.
Emotive and broken,
A garland of nightshade as your crown.
One bite of the apple
And our world caved in.
Of course i forgive you,
It is our nature to sin.
|
||||
6. |
For The Moment
06:44
|
|||
|
When the sun exploded, how mortal I felt.
I had never witnessed such beautiful colours and tones.
A tear for Cleobis and Biton, preserved in Delphic stone.
The flowers bloomed, gilded with gold as everything fell apart.
Trees uprooted, sparrows sung and the wind it roared –
Hawthorn and heather and gorse and willow, all stripped from the ground.
The warmest tear rolled down my cheek, because
I would never experience this moment again.
And if you told me I could live this all, once more, well
I don’t think I would have the strength.
The pain in your chest of crying for your lover
The warm embrace as you die with your brother
With childish eyes, I watched the sky
Split along with our dreams.
A cathartic release.
The bird song gleams.
|
||||
Ben Wyvis London, UK
From London to New York, folk and ambient fabricates itself in the mossy hollows of Ben Wyvis' two members: Alton Stevenson (NY) and Sam Eccleston (LDN)
Ben Wyvis recommends:
this record single-handedly catalysed my love for all that is drone and doom, while still preserving the essence of nature central to Phil Elverum's work. ghostwrote the start of 'For the Moment'
go to album
Illinois is Sufjan's magnum opus. c+b's orchestration's got Sufjan written all over it.
go to album
beautifully raw, bleak and uplifting. I could never leave out Q.
go to albumIf you like Ben Wyvis, you may also like:
The Alabama singer-songwriter may have turned in his guitars for synths and drum machines, but his music is no less personal or incisive.
go to album
