It is a necessarily unusual word, and that's for the best, these days. These are situations where it seems so out of place, so much so that it should barely be mentioned, like a piece of history that one wants to or is forced to forget. The image that comes to mind is of an elderly lady, whispering sadly to a child: "Once there was rock", and feeling ashamed to say it because she knows that child will never be able to understand what it was.

Years have passed, and after the mirage of free and borderless music, we have witnessed the decline. They call it Post-rock, because it was born in dark times that see a rapid departure of that movement. In short, the last judgment of music is staged, the culmination of our dreams, the day of reckoning.

(It has left us alone, but rays of light occasionally honor the corners of our rooms)

After the apocalypse, there is no choice but to gather the fragments, the survivors, the fragile things that still surround us and turn them into invaluable treasures.

The epic suites of Godspeed You (!) Black Emperor were the last burst of vitality, before leaving the world to its complete ruin. Once Post-rock ends, what remains? Only this. A Silver Mount Zion, with its first album, can be considered the sole instance of post-Post-rock.

All we managed to save is an old melancholy violin, a bass, and a guitar that we will adapt with the spare bow. It's all over, but we use the little that remains to us to sing. We won't let the music die before we do.

A broken string can still play a little.

A Silver Mount Zion is the poetry of the essential, an homage to survival in the deepest pain, in abandonment and silence. We have nothing left, but the light that comes in through the window knows how to give us hope, it is our joy, and we guard it jealously. We are alive, and that is enough.

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