Birchville Cat Motel
Our Love Will Destroy the World

How much time has passed since we stood dazed by sin, indulging in the perverse carnal pleasure of those telluric thrusts, certain that only other interstellar raps, other noise orgasms could come from Windy Wellington for us little Europeans lovers of the hit, completely unaware of the Judgment, we fake immortals devoted to the pure astral violence of Birchville Cat Motel.

It feels like an eon has passed: in the meantime, however, Campbell Kneale has been touched by the spirit, and the deafening ray of God's fury has swept him galaxies away from green New Zealand, to the very feet of the Eternal Father, right in the place where he could deliver his Sermon on the Mount.

"Our Love Will Destroy the World" is the account of the Beatitudes through the calvary of life, something that deeply, intimately, shakes the conscience, bending it to a resigned and necessary reconsideration of the surrounding.
A difficult album, a kind of rock catastrophe, that amidst surges of dramatic percussion stretches bodiless winds, handing back our hearts in pieces. Without matter when it sounds open yet doubtful (like man), but infinite, unreachable and distraught before the celestial eternity of its closed noise.

Yes, it's possible that our soul is naked as among the ranks of angels, but not before each one burdens themselves with the weight of their cross, like in the seven minutes and more of “Heavens Flaming Horse” the Our Father inside pure metallic coma, something confused and spasmodic that anticipates loss and heralds the beyond beyond the last heartbeat. Who knows if the Beatitudes will be there (as in the masterpiece of “55,000 Flowers for the Hero”, where the incense of feedback soars over the power metal guitars, crucifixion of a quarter of an hour, painful reflection on the transient, in vertical ascent to the point of descent in the final requiem, amidst spasms, screams and arpeggiated compressed resignation; the perfection), who knows if the body is really our boundary, and blessed are those who know it, because this is faith, for them with “Lay Thy Hatred Down”, the gates will open wide and the angelic air will blow from the golden trumpets: let the others have infinite terror, for no journey will be truly safe.
That single transgression will not reassure with a timeless tomorrow, nor can it fully defeat us, at least until death, thus Kneale's response is also uncertainty, a drama of sorrowful power: “Our Love Will Destroy The World”, every love without God, a future death: either we will return as soldiers in His ranks, or be burned in the eternal flame.

A work that words can only tarnish.

An album so lofty as to recall the Michelangelo-like perfection of detail, so distant from any value judgment as the meeting between the mortal finger and the outstretched arm of God.

A section of infinity.

Birchville Cat Motel - Our Love Will Destroy the World, PseudoArcana New Zealand, February 25, 2006.

1. "Heavens Flaming Horse" (7:02); 2. "55,000 Flowers For The Hero" (15:51); 3. "Lay Thy Hatred Down" (3:18); 4. "DoubleCascade Mini Fantasy" (5.04); 5. "Our Love Will Destroy The World" (11:28)