Blue Monday...

Both a theme, and an excellent 1983 tune from New Order. 

Yep, waaaay better than Orgy's cover of the same.

.d.s

Monday G'nite: Tuesday G'Morning

As I understand the current very fucked up DST, y'all on the East Coast are now looking at a sleepless night if you see this: It's about 1:30 a.m. on Tuesday. here on the Islands it's a peaceful 7:30. And, for my many peeps on the West coast, it's almost bedtime...a healthy 10:30.

Been gone for three weeks for a great many reasons, and, because I'm a fucker, I'll actually share them with y'all later. But, let's get your Monday night off in a peaceful way, and start your Tuesday with a depressive number:

Lake of Tear's "To Blossom Blue".

Norway's finest sad-ass band. Miss these guys...

-d.s.

Literature time, heathens...

E. A. Poe is, the contemporary wisdom runs, trite and tired. Played out, played over, and a cliche of a cliche. It's become the introductory reading material of choice for baby bats, and really offers little to the mature reader.

But, I wonder if beyond the macabre short tales, and the ballads,we've truly given Poe a chance lately?

Take a bow, you creepy fucker.

 

Today, you get that chance. Annabel Lee, one of the more obscure offerings by Edgar, is a masterpiece of understated gloom. Melancholy love, kids. Melancholy love.



It was many and many a year ago,
   In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
   By the name of ANNABEL LEE;--
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
   Than to love and be loved by me.
She was a child and I was a child,
   In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love--
   I and my Annabel Lee--
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
   Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
   In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud by night
   Chilling my Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsman came
   And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
   In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
   Went envying her and me:--
Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,
   In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of a cloud, chilling
   And killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
   Of those who were older than we--
   Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in Heaven above,
   Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:--

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
   In her sepulchre there by the sea--
   In her tomb by the side of the sea.


-E.A. Poe, 1884

Tuesday's reminescing...

about club drugs, button-popping sex with my friends, suede, leather, vinyl, the smell of red wine, candles casting flares on dilated pupils, speakers fuzzing and humming and thrumming, bumping into a crowded scene, knowing everyone and liking most of them.

Sigh.  Homesick.

I haven't been home, home in a very long time. Went in 2009 for a short visit and in 2008 for a week. But, all things considered, I'm missing people and things and places and familiarity of it all.

Enough of me and my concerns. Hope you all enjoyed your V-Day with your special and/or loved one(s).

Today's ditty is for the long-suffering Fetching Frau Schatten, with whom I shared a pleasant, if low-key evening last night.

Echo and The Bunnymen, "Nothing lasts forever", ladies and gents.

Seriously, they just do not make bands like this anymore.

In fact, I'll be a bit more militant, if you don't like Echo & the Bunnymen, you can go suck a fuck.

-d.s.

How did Monday let this happen?

Somehow, between working all day Saturday, and dicking off on Sunday, I walked into the office with full-blown panic....way too much to do today for comfort.


Regrets? Yea, a few. Speaking of which, please enjoy the classic Peaceville band, Anathema. Along with their label-mates, My Dying Bride, they set the standard by which all 90s British despondent music is judged by.They began as typical doom, but moved to Rock'n'Sad/Prog stuff (a la Canaan).

This one is one of their more subdued offerings, but still wonderful.

Anathema, "Regret"

"As I drift away... far away from you,
I feel all alone in a crowded room,
Thinking to myself
"There's no escape from this
fear
regret
loneliness...""

-d.s.

For no particular reason...

The death of my favorite American city, New Orleans, produced a series of calamities. Among them were already-destitute people reduced to looting grocery stores to survive.

Obviously not all looting was condoned or necessary. But, sometimes it can be morally justified. That said, here are some random images after the fact of people trying to protect what they acquired in this dystopia in our borders, and on our own coastline.

Again, no reason particularly. Just got to thinking about the complacency and mind-fucking incompetence that let a city of a million people die. 

-d.s.

DAMN; thursday got off to a late start

Not for the day; I was up at 4:00 (per my usual, as of late). Rather, I got a late start on this. Hell, it's almost siesta time on the East Coast.


Anyway, please enjoy some Mira; an excellent dark rock band, labeled "goth" by Metropolis, but I'll let you make that judgment call....

I love her voice; not as somnolent as Hope Sandoval (Mazzy Star), but just as emotive, and actually with a bit better range.

Incidentally, this is one of the best "fuck, we've broken up" songs evah. 

Lyrics here, for those wishing to heap a lil' misery on themselves this Holiday season.

-d.s.

The bittersweet dream...

Of a big bore V-8 speeding down an endless ribbon of highway, wind whipping caressing me like a lover, the painted desert further painted on the reflection of her sunglasses, her bright red lipstick and tousled hair, a radio that never sounds bad. She half-climbs into the backseat of the black convertible, as the wind worries at her dress.

We are young, reckless and utterly "ima wo ikiru"..."being", living in the moment with no past and no future, and an aimless, rudderless love for life itself.

Mood music. The excellent Danish punk, gothabilly band, Volbeat.

The first car we've encountered on this lonely highway, speeds us by. The driver's tie is at half-mast, bags line his eyes which show a far-away look of deep concentration on the road and whatever else lies heavy on his mind. In the backseat, a bored child's face is pressed against the glass. I try to smile at her as we pass, but no light comes to the little girl's eyes, and we're quickly forgotten.

And then the dream dies around me. What was perpetual sunset, is now a descending darkness. I feel the night's chill set in, and realize that I brought nothing to keep me warm. I begin to become consciously aware of the heavy lump in my pocket where an empty wallet lies. I worry as the gas needle drops faster than gravity would seem possible. What once was whimsy on her face turns into a cold distance, and furrows unconsciously gather in her brows. There grows a distant pang somewhere in the pit of my stomach that isn't attributable to growing hunger alone. I start to think about -not this moment- but the moment's that must come tomorrow, and the preparation that must be done now so as to live in that future, rather than this moment.

And, it's a dream. A bittersweet one; an irresponsible one; an impossible one. 

It is, in short, Rousseau's notion of the liberated individual; the spirit freed from the strictures of everyday society. And it leaves me gasping for breath as I choke against the tethers that I only occasionally feel, but which I've leashed about myself in an effort to stave off uncertainty.

A dream juxtaposed against a very real sacrifice. That is what I'll tell myself today, anyway.

-d.s.

Friday's unbeloved...

Long weekend starts today; and not "long" as in "awesome". Long as in "I have to go to a firm retreat, and be locked up in a hotel all weekend to discuss firm financials, justify my existence, share case notes and strategy, and wheedle for a higher salary...all whilst dining awkwardly...with minimal chances of getting laid."

Sigh. I hate this kind of shit.

Anyway, Der Schatten hopes you have a great weekend (or, at least certainly better than mine). Bundle up mainland, and enjoy an absolute classic: VNV Nation's "Beloved".

Black screen for a reason. The lyrics are the point.

Absolutely one of the saddest, most touching songs ever written.

-d.s

Tuesday should really just move to Europe

And, yes, I really should. There are dozens of bands that I want to see play that just are to obscure to even make it to the States. Maybe that's what I'll do next summer? Buy tickets to lots of the outdoor festivals and party my way from St. Petersburg all the way to Liverpool?

Anyway, enjoy this Lacrimas Profundere piece, "Melantroduction", off of 2001's brilliant "Burning: A Wish".

-d.s.

"A travesty gross enough to make a blind statue cry"

So, spoke the 20 y.o. sexual assault victim, "Ashley". Ashley had been raped by a youth counselor, inside a courthouse, when she was 15 years old.

The perp, Tony Simmons, got ten years probation, and no jail time for sexual assault on teenage girls under his supervision. "Ashley", however, received a 12 month sentence on an unrelated charge of falsifying a police report.

The NY Daily News has the horrifying details.

[Ashley] expected Tyson, as Simmons was called, to bring her up to the courtroom where she was scheduled to be sentenced for filing a false police report

Instead, the elevator descended to the basement. The 42-year-old counselor pulled down her pants and raped her with calm, practiced precision that made him all the more terrifying.

When he was done, Simmons pulled her pants back up and the elevator ascended to the courtroom. He raised an extended index finger to his lips in a mute command for her to say nothing.

Just moments after being violated, Ashley was seated next to her mother and before the judge. She was too shocked and terrified to report the attack.

 

Now, however, the judge is rejecting Simmons' plea: A humane first step. And, if there were any justice, he'd be behind bars:

[Judge] Mullen said she could not go ahead with the promised sentence of probation she made in September because a Department of Probation report showed Tony Simmons showed no remorse - and even blamed his underage victims.

Calling Simmons' comments in the report "nothing short of appalling," Mullen said he "seems to suggest he did his [rape] victim a favor."

Usually it's really better if she's blindfolded. This probably wasn't one of them.

-d.s.

Thursday is deluged...

I can't tell you the last day it's been warm and sunny, and rain free...After 6 months of winter, this is no kind of reward. BTW: If you don't like Concrete Blonde, then I cannot help you, other than to suggest a  remedial Rock School for some make-up sessions.

.
 

Today. Existentialism at its finest

Or, nihilism is the more correct word.

Today is a total and complete wash. I'm fucking despondent, frustrated, hurting, cold, lonely, underworked, and generally not in a good mood. So, yea, about Tuesday, for now...Fuck it. Motivation may be regained after I knock a few drinks back. Because booze never lets you down, unlike the entirety of the human race, the human condition, and the tiny, insignificance that comprises our lives.

 

And, even if I could, I wouldn't give a shit...

. 

Hurts to breathe...

So much goddamned uncertainty; so much timidity; so much irrascability; so much recalcitrant digging-in; so many times telling myself...telling yourself, that it doesn't hurt. It does. It always has. It always will.


And. It hurts to breathe.

Time does not heal. Time only leaves scars...

What am I on about? A website called "So There", where people seek ultimate closure. It is life in all of its painful, rugged, rawness...and it hurts to even read. It will render you incapable of speech, of logical thought, and -in my case- the ability to breathe.

Excerpt? you say. Indeed:

I saw you last week, and all I can remember is staring into those beautiful brown eyes. I can still see the reason, why I fell in love with you. I fell in love with that wonderful personality of yours. I can tell you that look more beautiful than the last time I saw you.

I hope you learned to be a better person because of me. "The great blessing of mankind are within us and within our reach; but we shut our eyes, and like people in the dark, we fall afoul upon the very thing we search for, without finding it."-Seneca. I still believe, we still love each other. We all journey through life wondering what will become of us. "Life's a voyage that homeward bound"-Herman Melville. 

I continue to wonder if I did anything to push you away from me, and I cannot come up with a reason. "Happiness resides not in posessions and not in gold; the feeling of happiness dwells in the soul"-Democritus. "Words without thoughts to heaven go"-William Shakespare. 

These are the words, I am putting to paper. All I know is that it feels good to put my thoughts on paper. I continue on life's journey, and wonder what I will discover about life. My hope is I continue to be a better person. I am moving soon to another city to live. I hope that is letter reaches your hands, Yvette. I wish you well, and I hope you are well. 

Enjoy.

.

Sunday has a new favorite song...

From VNV Nation's brilliant 2009 release, "Of Faith, Power & Glory" is this track, From my Hands. I could wax philosophic about this one, but the piano and vocals say it all. In the words of one commentator on YouTube: "Utterly heartbreaking, on some deeper, primal level. Or this one " I am in love with this song, it is just so perfect, what else to  say .." Or this one "Who would have thought that Ronan and Mark would grow like this." So yeah, pretty damned good song...

Lyrics go now:

So much I thought I'd have to say
Though I try to speak, my meaning strays.
We can't avoid the facts that brought us here.
I have come to say goodbye.

The lies I try to tell with my own eyes;
An act of pride, a willful compromise.
Please understand how torn I am
When I walk away from here.

I lament the moments we won't share.
If I am far too sentimental, I apologize.
Please understand this is who I am
And who I'll still be when I've walked away from here.

You know I'm not unkind
When I say in the future,
The past is just the past.

No going back,
No change of heart
But this is now,
Time will not differ.

My thoughts betray, so easily confess
How long I'll wait here after you have gone.
Nothing ends but I don't believe that now
Please don't walk away from here.

I went alone and I remember days.
Nothing will change a single fact of who you were to me
Oh, come what may, forever to the end
I find it so hard to let you go.

And hush now, let it go now
There's no need for sad goodbyes.
Hush now, let it go now
I know it's time to go.
Time to let this fall from my hands

.

 

Saturday has found the perfect Goodbye

müzik -  anathema - one last goodbye | izlesene.com

Disingenuous, really, to call it a "discovery", since this has been one of my favorite songs for about 7-8 years. Anathema, part of the early British "Peaceville" collection with "My Dying Bride", set the tone for about two decades of first, doom-death, then goth-doom, then just plain acoustic wonderfulness. Anathema was never as heavy as the latter, but -Damn- can they emote.

This track, One Last Goodbye, is about as close to wholly depressive perfection as you will ever find .

Lyrics go now:

How I needed you
How I grieve now you're gone
In my dreams I see you
I awake so alone

I know you didn't want to leave
Your heart yearned to stay
But the strength I always loved in you
Finally gave way

Somehow I knew you would leave me this way
Somehow I knew you could never.. never stay
And in the early morning light
After a silent peaceful night
You took my heart away
And I grieve

In my dreams I can see you
I can tell you how I feel
In my dreams I can hold you
And it feels so real

I still feel the pain
I still feel your love
I still feel the pain
I still feel your love

And somehow I knew you could never, never stay
And somehow I knew you would leave me
And in the early morning light
After a Silent peaceful night
You took my heart away
I wished, I wished you could have stayed

.

Sunday is powering down...

The superb, and superbly depressing "Forsaken" by VNV Nation off of "Praise the Fallen". Absolutely love this song, but it should come with a surgeon general's warning that excessive consumption can cause melancholy (at a minimum). 

But, I do give thanks to Ronan for this...without this song, I don't know if I could have scraped my ass of the mat when I had cancer in law school. So, this song is forever linked to my own mortality. But there are better memories as well...that, however, is a tale for another time.

Lyrics go now:

When I have nothing left to feel.
When I have nothing left to say
I'll just let this slip away.

I feel these engines power down.
I feel this heart begin to bleed
as I turn this burning page.

Please forgive me if I bleed.
Please forgive me if I breathe.
I have words I need to say.
Oh so very much to say.

And whose life do I lead?
And whose blood do I bleed?
Whose air do I breathe?
With whose skin now do I feel?

I'm supposed to walk away from here.
I'm supposed to walk away from here.

And whose life do I lead?
Whose blood do I bleed?
Whose air do I now breathe?
I'm convinced there's nothing more.

The day you died I lost my way.
The day you died I lost my mind.

What am I supposed to do?
Is there something more?

The engines power down.
Like a soldier to his end I go.
Because I'm convinced
that there is nothing more.

and whose life do I lead
and whose air do I breathe?
With whose skin and whose blood do I feel?

What happens now?
Have I done something wrong?

Forgive my need to bleed right now.
Please forgive my need to breathe
But I've so much to say
and it wouldn't matter anyway.
You're not here to hear these words that I must say
and I'm convinced inside
that there is nothing more.

Whose life do I lead?
Whose air do I breathe.
Whose blood do I now bleed?
With whose skin now do I feel?

I have nothing left to say.
I have nothing left to feel.
Am I supposed to let this go now,
let darkness come and take you away?

.

Monday Wonders How Deeper Down Things Can Get?

From the seminal "My Dying Bride," comes Deeper Down...hearkening back to their earlier, heavier years, this is a riffsome little number, with all of the bleakness you've come to expect. Enjoy.

Lyrics go now:

An unfortunate journey
Through a bleak sea of
loneliness
I carved through the waves
of grief
In a black vastness of self
doubt

I have never felt so alone
So pitiful and wretched
and low
I'm tried by a terrible wind
The misery and the pains
blow

Fill my vast sails of ruin
Steer me toward a bleak end
A horizon of purples and
reds
The still waters of my
welcome end

The clouds of grey come
overhead
A storm will hunt me down
And rip the guts out of my
body
That I would surely drown

The unforgiving wind
searches
And lashes me like a whip
The self-pity overwhelms me
My heart sinks like a ship

Thrashing out at torment
and pain
The maddened sea engulfs
me
I let myself be swallowed up
The magnificent weight
upon me

Deeper i go, deeper down
Didn't think it could get any
blacker
The cold bites, the pressure
builds
I think i no longer matter

Can't tell if my eyes are open
or closed
The grieving waters swallow
The pain I'm in through my
life of sin
The Devil will doubtless
follow

Loneliness is agony
For those of you who know
A war of grief and sadness
rages
Through mind, body and
soul

When lovers die and
friendships fade
When kin all lie forgotten
The gates of agony spew
forth
Your memories, stinking
and rotten

So deep now i feel so numb
I'm ravaged by utter loss
The guilt, the grief, the
astounding pain
My body, they all will wash

I hope I ne'er return to life
Oh, Christ just let me go
Let death devour my Simple
soul
Lest my misery grow

I quietly leave. A lonely sight
Relieved of all my guilt
To join a wall of deepest
Hell
The Devil himself has built.


2. The Child Of Eternity

Screaming out
Windows of victory
Tolling bell
Burn into history

Screaming out
Icons of hating
Tolling bell
Drifting on, man's pier

As ghost we swords clash
Racing up the stair of god

Fury's fire
Oceans of sorrow
Dark desire
Dream has to fall in

The ancient child of eternity
Not a thing of this world
Tortured movements
Into the terrible seas, drowning, drowning
Time is lost for every man
Counting downwards

Poised with arms
Raised for holy angels
Conquerors, warriors
Holy angels
Leaving flight, a bloody sight
Crimson rivers

Screaming out
Windows of victory
Holy hell
The child of eternity


3. A Kiss To Remember (Live)

Open me
And drink up my scarlet
Kiss me deep
Kiss me deep and love me forever more
Bloody love
Bloody love inside of you
Swallow me
Thank God, there's nothing I can do

Come with me my friend, come and see the end
And let me swallow up your pain
Leave the village lights, step into the night
Open your mouth to my bloody rain
And at your second birth, we will slay the earth
And stalk mankind 'til Heaven burns
Just lay down for me, naked for me to see
It's just one kiss, that's all I need

Take me down
Down to the bloody shore
Dig me deep, dig me deep
And leave me forever more
Lay me down
Down with all of them
And forget me
Like you forgot the rest of them

.

The Coolest Man You've Never Heard of....

When he does it, it's not creepy...

Meet James May, a modern-day (and real version) of Mr. Magorium. May is the host of an upcoming BBC program entitled "Toy Stories", which -as you'd imagine, is about toys and imagination. And, in his words, is designed to "get kids out of their bedrooms and away from their Playstations"

Hey you, out of your room, and in front of the television where you belong....

But, May also did something that you and I never, ever in a million years could have dreamed of...he built an entire, fully functional, house -with operational plumbing- out of 3.3 million Legos.

 

I do imagine that the hallway is pretty easy to keep clean....

Alas, all is not well in the UK Legoland. May and 1000 volunteers built his monument in a vineyard, and now, with the season upon them, it's time to reclaim the grapes. That normally wouldn't be a problem, however, Lego UK, has refused to take this awesome exhibit....Because it will be too expensive to move. Even worse, May and his motley crew of blockheads can't even give the toys away...because Lego claims it will dilute the sales of their toys.

 

3.3 million Legos = thousands of happy kids. Thanks for nothing, Lego.

To make the story even more bizarre, he can't give the structure to a private benefactor because British law prohibits anyone other than Lego using them for an attraction.   So, what happens on Tuesday if an impasse cannot be overcome? According to Court-order, workers have the go ahead to fucking chainsaw it....In an act that can only be described as wasteful beyond all belief, and incredibly dickish, Lego is going to let this happen too...

Hmmmm, this stain-glassed window needs more chainsaw...

To look at May's incredible structure, and see Lego UK in all of their prickishness, see the full Sunday Mail article. Until then, Der Schatten has nothing but love for ya' Jim...

. 

 

Sunday sees through your glass skin

Dir en Grey; Japan's answer to the Cure. Universally renowned for their beautiful lyrics (even if they do not always translate to English very well), and complex, lush sound. Enjoy 2008's release, and already-classic, "Glass Skin"

Lyrics Go Now

My vision begins to blur,
The glass sky, the color of the wind,
The merry-go-round playing alone,
I wave,
My somehow faded voice is more important to me than my guilty conscience,
Tomorrow I sleep, leaving myself behind,
Emptier still than any tears of comedy,
Left to be just taken,
Left to be just damaged,
Here...

In the dark morning, I pretend the window to be a picture frame,
I wake my sleeping skin and press my hand against this wet piece of picture,
Spring blossoms and the petals fall, giving life to the river,
Swaying from side to side, where will you go?
I put my hand on the heavy and closed door,
The remains of the parade,
The silence laughs along with the fact that I won't be sleeping again tonight,

Emptier still than any tears of comedy,
Left to be just taken,
Left to be just damaged,
Here, let there be love...
The jokingly-dancing seasons endlessly hurt,
Left to be just taken,
Left to be just damaged,
And to be melted by the dreams I hold out,

I bleed as my way of compensating everything to you,
How heavy is blood?
Happiness and sadness lie too close,
The hand that will be born tomorrow, will be simply pure and nothing else,
I can barely see you now with all these tears,

Emptier still than any tears of comedy,
Left to be just taken,
Left to be just damaged,
Here, let there be love...
There is a ferris wheel, where I can look down and see you from,
The melody that just comes crumbling down is also so sweet and beautiful, it's frightening,
The shadow exposed by the sun is branded into my memory,
And it touches my heart more than any shallow words combined