"Wrongfully" kicks off the dangerous experimentation: a twenty-minute prelude that's a rough reply to Jethro Tull's Aqualung. It's a place to wallow after one's popped (and/or injected) one too many...a burial mound for the living, sequestered underground where thoughts run rampant with decay.
Of course, as with any doleful dynamic, there are moments of misguided hope, as "expectation" expertly invokes. Among the track's dripping, motorized doom, one plays with fruitless, suburban fancies. It's a track that brings David Lynch's "Eraserhead" to mind, where Heaven is referenced, though we all know it's Hell.
"The good and the interests" and "everything that was good for us" follow, presenting those formative moments of remembrance, instruction and remorse. Their tingling pings recall a phase of parental guidance, when one was prompted to trek down the right track, but we all know how that turned out.
A time to toil (to embrace self punishment) proceeds via the "night shift", where darkness forces one to play the vampire, or more so the zombie, shuffling with useless cause, compelled to bite and gnaw, but only at the putrid air.
A time to toil (to embrace self punishment) proceeds via the "night shift", where darkness forces one to play the vampire, or more so the zombie, shuffling with useless cause, compelled to bite and gnaw, but only at the putrid air.
From this, one sets upon "the road to nothing", lusting for another fix, another wrongful passage. It's within this fierce fixation that defeat becomes a false victory, the mud a cold bath, the darkness a light at the end of misery's eternal tunnel...
Indeed, Ianqu knows how the accursed addictive "live". Take a listen at
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