Lustmord
Rising

I envy Lustmord. I envy him, because I wouldn't be able to compose the music he does without crapping myself every thirty seconds from the fear. Well, but who says that Lusty himself doesn't experience great fear while weaving terror into each of his albums? I try to imagine him sitting in front of an enigmatic contraption covered with keys, letters, levers, lights, and screens of all kinds, immersed in darkness and silence, alone with himself and with an abundant supply of toilet paper rolls (Foxy, at least it's scented) to accompany him in the endeavor. No, I can't see it. He doesn't need toilet paper. He doesn't feel fear because he knows it better than his own pockets, and molds, modulates, and filters it as if it were his own creation.

This is why, album after album, dear Brian Williams (so this being has a name!) manages to sublimate the most instinctive and primordial feeling of living beings through the paradigms of ambient music. In fact, that’s exactly what one must, by all means, expect with the release of each of his albums. Didn't crap your pants from fear? Then it's not a Lustmord album, or Lustmord has lost his creative touch. Diaper or not, it is clear that in the way this shady individual conceives music, there are no compromises for anything in the world: you either take a deep breath and dive in headfirst disregarding expectations, or you stay far away.

This entire preamble was written to frame globally the work reviewed here, "Rising", recorded live on June 6, 2006. "Rising" will take the shape of your worst fears: it will be the big hairy spider lurking under your bed, the storm raging while you're home alone, the sleepless void of the abyss, and it will also be your mother-in-law. It's good to grasp it in its entirety, since each track is linked to the others by an almost imperceptible logical thread; changes in atmosphere are never abrupt, but the transitions between tracks are fundamental to keeping the reins of the overall development. Organicity is, therefore, as always, the focal point that makes the work complete and at least understandable.

If I had to mention the most significant episodes for the album's success, these would be "Decompression", "Lust", "Congregants Request 2", and "Benediction". It's obvious to say that, in these tracks, darkness and unease reign supreme in every turn, but it's surprising to hear how Lustmord manipulates them with imagination and macabre ingenuity, as if wrestling with an enormous mass of clay. The sounds become slick and dragged, suddenly soar and become sacred and contemplative, then fall ill in the abysmal void of Tibetan horns, gongs, and growls of dubious origin, without neglecting the suffocating and tormented passages of catatonic stillness.

"Rising" has no expectations or objectives; it stays there, nestled in the shadow, waiting for someone to open it, to grasp it, and to live it in every pulsating breath. Toilet paper permitting.

Are you afraid? No? Never mind. You will be.