martes, 27 de octubre de 2020

SOMNIATE

 


Origen: Rp. Checa, Pilsen, Praga.

Formados: 2017

Estilo: Black

Temática: Realismo mágico

Enlaces: Facebookinstagram y Somniate.

Miembros:

  • Adam Kulich Bajo
  • Aleš Vilingr Guitarra
  • Marek Štembera Guitarra y voces
  • Tomáš Mařík Batería
  • Zdeněk Klekner Voces
Discografía:
  • The Meyrinkian Slumber CD 2020
THE MEYRINKIAN SLUMBER (2020)
Primer lanzamiento para está nueva banda de procedencia checa que cuenta en su line-up con músicos procedentes de la escena death del pías centroeuropeo. Este primer álbum bajo el nombre de Somniate se mueve por terrenos de un black metal de corte progresivo y está inspirado en el libro de Gustav Meyrink "The Golem". Somniate a tejido a lo largo de los cinco temas y el poco más de media hora de duración de este álbum un sonido black bastante directo y agresivo que encierra influencias tanto del death en sus formas, como del progresivo en lo variado de su desarrollo y estructuras, acabando por ofrecer incluso algunos elementos disonantes en el resultado final. El álbum conserva en líneas generales un tono entre lo melódico y lo directo en los riffs, con abundantes cambios de ritmo y con estructuras que algún momento se vuelven complejas, casi rayando lo caótico, acompañado todo ello de unas líneas de batería que se amoldan a un ritmo bastante constante pero con suficiente dinamismo para fluir cuando la másica de este "The Meyrinkian Slumber" expande su horizonte hacia lo progresivo y vanguardista. Las voces se emplean a fondo en una línea marcada por la agresividad y la violencia, por momentos formando un interesante tándem con la batería y trayendo influencias cercanas a los sonido death más recientes. "The Meyrinkian Slumber" es un álbum que podemos definir como variado, con un fondo de black pero con partes de diferentes estilos, que sin llegar a sonar complejo si que logra ofrecer elementos y matices que enriquecen el resultado final. (8).




1. The Sleepless Stone 07:24
  A cold rectangle of the moonlight
Descend into the pitch-black realms
Agonising restlessness
A dweller in between the worlds
Not asleep nor awake
In reverie, the rivers collide
The stream incoherent and spastic
A shapeless mass slithering down into the chasm

Unlike the crow of Gautama, the ascetic
I cannot banish the stone from my sight
Unbearable sense of my weakness
Overpowers me and binds me
My body asleep, senses detached
The ever-occurring question
Who am I
Who is this I now

Again and again
With obscene persistence
An obstinate voice keeps insisting
Tireless as a shutter
Blown by the wind against the wall
Like distant recalls

There is no escape from the void

A hundred times I dare to object
A thousand times I deny
I voluntarily give up all resistance
I cast myself into the stream
Of endless interrogations

There is no escape from the voice.
2. Rephaim 04:54
  Behold the fifth quarter
A district obscured and forgotten
Home of the restless shades
A heavy downpour
Waters both loathing and revulsion

All the strange people who dwell here
Human-like phantoms not born of woman
They drift through life with no will of their own

Animated by an invisible current
There is no one alive capable of laughing
The innocent times are long time past
Walls speak softly through vibration, cracks and smear
Old images keep surfacing like ominous sigils
Noises and murmurs
Withered laments

What an unexpected guest
This is the way he behaves when he feels at home
His book was speaking to me
Just as dreams can speak
A crown of red wood, the impregnation of souls
Words streamed from the unseen mouth
Took on life and came towards me

Alive yet without echoes
I can feel them drifting through me
Alive yet without echoes
I can feel them drifting through my very soul

Darkness has the upper hand
A firm grip on every corner, every street
Them houses outside
Worn stone and dripping wood
Emit incoherent howls
Nothing but a mere whisper
Crosses the threshold of perception.
3. In Bone Incorruptible 06:20
All I can hear is the wind That omnipresent blow Which makes lifeless objects move and events flow Of which it says in the Bible Thou hearest the sound thereof But canst not tell whence it cometh Whither it goeth In the grip of catacombs A room without an entrance Where a tomblike silence rules in the winter or in May Over the ones who have a reason to shun The light of day At first, nothing but darkness Decaying soil and fungoid growth Eight steps in all – the remains of an iron staircase Each one at head height above the last In regular lines – the patterns of the past The precise shape of a hexagram Entrapment Ankle-deep in dust, a vault too old The numbing slumber, the ruthless cold Enveloped my flesh like a stifling, soft woollen cloak That smudge of white – the Juggler Staring at me with vacant eyes As he went down into the grave, so he will rise up And so will I. 
4. A Penitentiary Triptych 06:44
  A shameful walk through the lamplit streets
Framed for murder
The days crept by
Week followed sluggish week

Shivering all the time
When the sun reveals its careless face
Unbroken rows of iron doors with massive bolts
Barred windows

The palace of rot, a dreadful home
A cavity with a pestilential smell
In the middle of the prison yard
A bare half-dead tree –
We are alike

My nails – all torn
A despair-ridden heart bound in scorn
I stared out into the black murk outside
It stared back devoid of life and soul –
We are alike

The roaming one
Lend me your sight
These eyes can reach where I cannot reach

I counted the hours
Praying for them to pass
What did it matter
Whether I reached my end
On the gallows
Or by my own hand

A half-open mouth
A corpselike face
Lips slightly restless
Through them old words are born
I will follow the voice
To a casket or to a throne.
5. Of Fragrance and Light 06:37
  The tinkle of glass
Red tongues of fire
A wild jubilant ecstasy
Coursing through my veins
One twist round wrist and leg
Behind the window
My past – a scorching flame

Hanging between heaven and earth
Head downwards, legs forming a cross
The rope twangs – stretch and creak
As I fall I grab the window-ledge
Smooth is the stone

Foremost of the dead
My throe is thine, each and every chain
As thy words become my words
The endless white trail
I shall forever reign.
  31:59








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