Partly Cloudy
Excess Verbiage

The truth hurts us, I know, but we need to get into our heads that the condition of life in this dimension is "partly cloudy," and therefore when this shadow churns out sounds of this kind in 1987, it stands to reason that, with the help of the back cover's tornado, we can sweep away that dark wave synth electronics we deemed indispensable until now.

Minimal sounds that would fit well in the court of Nebuchadnezzar, in a late Danubian medieval era, in the pantagruelian banquet of Moloch that was the 20th century, and in a near future cyborg condition. It's as if to say that these ultra-modern noises are such because they originate from antediluvian eras, from pre-Atlantean situations.

The soundscapes are like Hereke carpets, woven with golden threads, but the musical wefts have a millennial golden oxidation. The vocal intrusions of Aziz lay bare occult levels hand in hand with Gigi's (pronounced the French way) rhythms, mocking situations suspended in a limbo set by Robert with his synthesizers and programs that describe the stalemate of our fears. The mirror is opaque and reflects the fog of our ego with metaphonic echoes of transcendent trance that bounce the deception of "excessive verbosity."

The result is that the discomfort of listening insinuates itself without return, and we discover it as a reverse of an ancient pleasure we did not dislike. The frequency of impatience rumbles and sways in accepting the accompaniment with ourselves to infinity.

The strain of eternity is long, and sooner or later we must make peace with it and begin to live with it, mystifying damnation, why not, even with these sounds that play damn well in a crepuscular dynamism where female lullabies drastically lull you into the abrasion of the friction of survival. And in the airs, the gift is that there is no trace of hope.

So let us take advantage of a delectable psychic soundtrack that makes us understand, willing or not, that we're all in the same boat, on that ship called Demeter...

Right & Left Hemisphere instead of Side A and B to seal the alchemic marriage with the game of existence where the "Fucked" of the last track arrives like cheese on macaroni... or like a kick in the ass. Eternity is long...