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Rating: Searching for someone or following something, I am taken aback by the night.
The steps, the deserted square, and the moon… nothing else.
Electronic torpors and dark rhythmic oddities languish in a sooty metropolitan spleen in which the dozes of Brian Eno’s "Music for Films" are stirred by feather-stuffed Neu!
Bitter piano chords run like a dark frieze on the walls of the sleeping city, and sudden guitar ripples cut through the fog of truncated thoughts.
People sleeping, the cracked porphyry, and the moon… nothing else.
The breath of uncertain melodies whispers secrets to the night vapors while deaf bass lines reverberate in the sound and chill the blood like the tolling of a funeral bell.
Like a secular "Book of Hours" probing the imperceptible nuances of the soul and comforting our solitudes, as if the delicate liturgies and trembling confessions of Paul Verlaine were addressed to us, to all of us.
The months, the years, and the moon… nothing else.
Tracklist
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