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Death in June
« But, What Ends When the Symbols Shatter? »
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| 1 | Death Is The Martyr Of Beauty
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| | 2 | He\'s Disabled
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| | 3 | The Mourner\'s Bench
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| | 4 | Because of Him
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| | 5 | Daedalus Rising
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| | 6 | Little Black Angel
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| | 7 | The Golden Weeding of Sorrow
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| | 8 | The Giddy Edge of Light
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| | 9 | Ku Ku Ku
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| | 10 | This is Not Paredise
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| | 11 | Hollows of Devotion
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| | 12 | But, What Ends When The Symbols Shatter?
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| | Total playing time: 46:18 |
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Douglas P. - vocals, lyrics, music. |
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New European Recordings
All DEATH IN JUNE titles are by Douglas P. unless otherwise stated.
Written between March, 1989 and April, 1992 in Sydney, Adelaide, Paris, Rome and London.
Engineered and mixed by Ken Thomas, February-April, 1992. At Jacob\'s Studios, Farnham and Alaska Studios, London.
Produced by Ken Thomas and Douglas P.
With thanks to:
Simon Norris and James Mannox for additional keyboards, percussion and vocals on tracks 5, 6 and 9.
Campbell Finley - trumpet on tracks 3, 6 and 11.
Michael Cashmore - lead guitar and keyboards track 8.
And special thanks to David Tibet for lead vocals on tracks 5 and 10, backing vocals on track 7, 9 and 12 and the help offered in this project.
All other instrumentation and vocals by Douglas P.
Many Thanks, Much Love and Appreciation to the following for their special part in the making of this recording:
John Pitcher, Helmutt Boetcher, Manfred Neben, Peter Winkworth, Kevin McMahon, Butch Calderwood, Graham Hawkes and, of course, David Hoskins.
Photos of Death In June by Darren Bentley.
For mailing list information:
UK - An S.A.E. The World - International Reply Coupon.
BM JUNE, LONDON WC1N 3XX
(c) Death In June/NER 1992 |
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| Death Is The Martyr Of Beauty
Drunk with the nectar
Of submission
I feel nothing more
Than existence
A loneliness
That will not
Come off
In the narcissism
Of the harbour
We are lost
Vaster then night
My pride
My Threat
My thrust
This is beyond very far
All this is beyond
Is this t |
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Еще в средине восьмидесятых став сольным проектом Дугласа Пирса, Death in June неуклонно прогрессировал и развивался, уходя от нойза (отголоски которого чувствуются в "Ku Ku Ku") и постпанка в сторону более медитативной, и даже действительно фольковой музыки. И, наверное, ни у одной другой группы жанра нет такого антагонизма между формой и содержанием исполняемой музыки. В "But, What Ends When the Symbols Shatter?" повсеместно присутствует акустическая гитара (как правило, играет Дуглас на ней стандартным боем), поддерживаемая басом, за счет чего музыка звучит более насыщенно и плотно, чем, скажем, у In Gowan Ring или Current'93. Она разукрашена разнообразными клавишными, сэмплами, перкуссией, веселыми колокольчиками, а в "Little Black Angel" даже духовая секция присутствует. А вот лирика сообщает нам о весьма мизантропичных настроениях автора, его склонности к оккультным наукам, и даже увлечении национал-социализмом. Достаточно экстремально, хотя ранний дарк-фольк вообще никогда не отличался не то что позитивистским, но даже и просто созерцательным настроем. Вокал Пирса достаточно слаб, хотя для такого материала звучит приемлемо, но не более того. Самое интересное, что голос Дэвида Тибета на " Daedalus Rising" и "This Is Not Parаdise" звучит немногим лучше. Кстати, весьма символично, что Дуглас доверил экс-коллеге именно эти треки. Они являются стержневыми и программными на альбоме, хотя и не лучшими. Право именоваться таковыми я бы отдал "Death Is the Martyr of Beauty", "Little Black Angel" и "The Golden Weeding of Sorrow". В целом, материал мелодичен, в меру разнообразен, и идеально подходит для знакомства со стилем, хотя лучшие альбомы у Дугласа Пирса были впереди. |
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Of an obsession
In the obsession?
Swept clean of the past
And its errors
Shall we take new roads
We shall take new roads
Look. lost
Vast night
Tearing and loathing
Thrashing without you
To the church of tomorrow
Death Is The Martyr Of Beauty
Look, here is our runic wreath
Look here!
He\'s Disabled
As pilgrims here - we sometimes journey
To who knows what - to who knows what?
Come and sing this simple story
That god forgot - that life forgot
Don\'t you know god is disabled
Is disabled
Clouds may gather all around you
But he\'s disabled
He\'s no friend to the friendless
And he\'s the mother of grief
There\'s only sorrow for tomorrow
Surely, life is to brief
Surely, love is to brief
Don\'t you know god is disabled
Is disabled
Clouds may gather all around you
But he\'s disabled...
The Mourner\'s Bench
Something got hold of me
Oh, yes it did! I said
Something got hold of me
It ratttled around my head...
I went to a meeting last night
But, my heart wasn\'t right
Something got hold of me
Oh, yes it did! I said
Something got hold of me
It ratttled around my head
Early one morning
On the mourner\'s bench
My heart it was filled with misery
The same god that touched you one day
He laid his hand on me!
Because Of Him
Because of him
This world has hope again
Because of him
This world has got a friend
A friend that will eradicate
All life\'s false humanity
Helping one race, one creed
To meet their need
So that all may see
That it\'s all so wonderful to care
To love, to cull, to share
To love, to cull, to share
Oh, let us start today
To live and die the same way...
Daedalus Rising
There, over there
Has gone, goes and will go
The copper sun
Tarnishes with the year\'s tears
The golden golden copper sun
Old eldest dead
Over the blue milky seasky
Loss and lost and losing
Do not wept
All this is passing
All the birds wing and fall
Through the heavens
The cloudy clouds
Of snow of dew and of smoke
A shuddering reflection
Vanishing with the dropped stone
Oh, I wait under the spaces
Under the molten starrain
The flashing falling planets
Do not wept
All this is passing
So high I could come
So far I shall fall
Daedalus broken
Daedalus falling
By the toothstones
His shapes bends
And makes s smiling bow
He careers and spiral down
Falls
He waves words of farewell
\" Oh, do not weep
All of this passing
To fail is human
To fall is human
To hope is human
Do not weep
As the sound disappears
As the rain falls
As the sky parts
As my tears fall
Do not weep
I shall wait for you\"
Daedalus broken
Daedalus falling
Do not wept
All this is passing...
Little Black Angel
Black angel, black angel
As you grow up
I want you to drink
From the plenty cup
My little black angel
My little black angel as years roll by
I want you to fly with wings held high
I want you to live by the justice code
I want you to burn down freedom\'s road
My little black angel
Oh lie away, oh lie away asleeping
Lie away safe in my arms
Your father, your future protects you
And locks you safe from all harm
Little black angel I feel so glad
You\'ll never have things I never had
When out of men\'s hearts all hate has gone
It\'s better to die than forever live on
My little black angel...
The Golden Wedding Of Sorrow
Wrap your face in prayers
The ones you sent in dust
And, know they never reached me
You know they never reached me
Every blemish helps endear?
In this earthbound axis
Of stifling air
The stifling air
In this golden wedding of sorrow
In this golden wedding
Blind and bleeding
Or, merely spent?
We returned to the source
To wait on our dream
And a function disappears
And a reason disappears
And a meaning disappears
All memories scream
In this golden wedding of sorrow
In this golden wedding
Black tears caress male things
But my caresses only sour things
At the dawn of the dusk of hope
Remember me as pain
Remember me again and again
Wrap your face in prayers
The ones you never sent
And, know they never reached me
You know they never reached me
The Giddy Edge Of Light
Through the winter\'s woods
To the giddy edge of light
We shut the door on pain
Those tales are dead - dead forever
A wind must agree
To blow us on course
It can be quick to come
But, once it\'s gone - it\'s gone forever
Through the winter\'s woods
To the giddy edge of light
We are all in this vein
It is already too late
What do we witness?
What do we negate?
In this world of shadows
And sordid allusion
Through the winter\'s woods
To the giddy edge of light
All this arrogance and ignorance
Will be washed away
Craving for tomorrow
Craving for today
By association
I want, want everything
Through the winter\'s woods
To the giddy edge of light
Ku Ku Ku
Open up you mind
And ku ku ku, baby
And time will stand still for you
Seize the end of time
And ku ku ku, baby
See, it will be mine
And ku ku ku, baby
I will bleed into the blind
So ku ku ku, baby
And time will stand still for you
Open up you mind
And ku ku ku, baby...
This Is Not Paradise
Many blurred dead king\'s faces
Move photolike through time\'s gape and gauge
The dull drum\'s thud and drone
Is not heroic battlebeat
This is the grey clock\'s cog
These are not the banners of heroes
Or flags we should fly
These are not proud pennants
These are the clothes of prisoned mind
These stumps of man on boxes
Are not the vox or voces
Of god or gods
They are the forms of the breaths of dust
This is the great ocean of birth and death
Kye ma kya ma
Oh paradise
Never lost and not to be gained here
These are not the heroes
These are not more than drenched earthtops
These are not more than you or I
Listen:
I swear by the blank of the moon
(Under the archen stars I stand alone)
I swear by the spiting sttreaming sun
These cups of fire, of waterred scales
That cover our laughing round of spaces
Are nothing
Nothing
Like the mouse with horns
A fable full of lightless dark
You are now to me the lost queen
The new age and her train moves on
Behind the smiling lips concealed
The clacking jaws of gummy rictus
Not motionless but emotionless
The savourless lines of open lies
Proclaim:
\" This is the best
It shall ever be
Think of the things
That shall never be\"
And our soul stalks empty hearted
Empty-handed
As it hangs its light
On hooks of symbols
Hooks of gods and goats and hooks of crooks
You must know: this is not paradise
Father time spins on and grins and skips his
Scythe
Over our flowered heads
And takes us to the muddy house
Of dreamless sleep
Oh this is not paradise
All the empty buildings clutching
Bags of pain and bone and skin
Masks of despair and waterruns
The bells ring out and make no sense
They make the skies bend
Though you wait for me
This is not paradise
(Though you wait for me)
This is not paradise...
This Is Not Paradise
Many blurred dead king\'s faces
Move photolike through time\'s gape and gauge
The dull drum\'s thud and drone
Is not heroic battlebeat
This is the grey clock\'s cog
These are not the banners of heroes
Or flags we should fly
These are not proud pennants
These are the clothes of prisoned mind
These stumps of man on boxes
Are not the vox or voces
Of god or gods
They are the forms of the breaths of dust
This is the great ocean of birth and death
Kye ma kya ma
Oh paradise
Never lost and not to be gained here
These are not the heroes
These are not more than drenched earthtops
These are not more than you or I
Listen:
I swear by the blank of the moon
(Under the archen stars I stand alone)
I swear by the spiting sttreaming sun
These cups of fire, of waterred scales
That cover our laughing round of spaces
Are nothing
Nothing
Like the mouse with horns
A fable full of lightless dark
You are now to me the lost queen
The new age and her train moves on
Behind the smiling lips concealed
The clacking jaws of gummy rictus
Not motionless but emotionless
The savourless lines of open lies
Proclaim:
\" This is the best
It shall ever be
Think of the things
That shall never be\"
And our soul stalks empty hearted
Empty-handed
As it hangs its light
On hooks of symbols
Hooks of gods and goats and hooks of crooks
You must know: this is not paradise
Father time spins on and grins and skips his
Scythe
Over our flowered heads
And takes us to the muddy house
Of dreamless sleep
Oh this is not paradise
All the empty buildings clutching
Bags of pain and bone and skin
Masks of despair and waterruns
The bells ring out and make no sense
They make the skies bend
Though you wait for me
This is not paradise
(Though you wait for me)
This is not paradise...
But, What Ends When The Symbols Shatter
When life is but disappointment
And \"nothing\" is amusing
The one wild hunt
For loneliness
Is a life without god
Is an end without love
Soulless today
And soulless tomorrow
We struggle for the joy
Oh, we struggle for the joy
That life is haunted by
Its memories - its meaninglessness
Yearn to be gathered, cracked and saved
A thought for a life time
A thought for a night time
But, what ends when the symbols shatter?
And, who knows what happens to hearts?
But, what ends when the symbols shatter?
And, who knows what happens to hearts?