Swans
The Glowing Man

We need a dream to escape.

The essence is captured in this prophetic phrase. Escaping and extracting extrasensory perceptions seem like the solution through the whirlwind tunnel conceived by the equally twisted mind of Michael Gira. A concentrate of dreamlike intersections that descend fiercely into the air to catapult into abstract dimensions. The Glowing Man is the chapter that seals the Swans of the early 2000s. It is the incandescent circle that silences the swans and makes them dissolve in a desert lake. The apocalyptic majesty turns into shamanic drawings of which Michael is the preacher. The flow of time seems surreal and begins to act as a hallucinogen in the dilated landscapes born from the soul of the Swans. In the endless valleys of The Glowing Man world, the air becomes rarefied, producing a short circuit in your psyche. One is in the presence of a ritual where the solution is to liquefy in the grip of visions that seem to come from an ancient Indian tribe. The clouds cover thoughts and obscure judgment, fate passes through the ethereal spiritualism of the Swans.

God, oh God, I'm Leaving. I'm Leaving. Surrender! Surrender! Take us! Take us!

A scorching sun appears on the horizon, putting you on your knees on the scorching sand, while the rays pierce your eyes depriving you of any hold on reality. Your ascension begins slowly, there is room to let yourself be carried away by the obsessive waterfalls of the slow guitar loops that the Swans conceive. It all starts from there, only to change into an endless game of opposing souls that disorient and destabilize. Your subconscious convinces itself that danger is imminent and the wait for the unknown is deceived by the exorcising mantras that Michael repeats, repeats, repeats. You are rocked inside chilling memories and threatening futures. The tension unleashes in the storms that echo without pause, as you approach he who shines, the Glowing Man. One must know how to clear one’s mind and let the chaotic crescendo flow without any filter. Thus, the Swans' intentions are revealed, after the illusion of evanescent sounds they strike with the catastrophic atmospheres on which to layer the monstrous wall of sound. A well-balanced equilibrium where the electric screech finds refuge in diffused cellos and piano apparitions.

Now the city's dissolving and heaven's inhaling.

The wind blows between the bells of an ancient cathedral where inside you can only find the rite professed by the Swans. Mysticism seeps into the veins of his wife Jennifer, who tells the fierce and animalistic side of man, thus increasing the decadent suggestions that will slowly deflagrate, elevating everything to new levels. To a new world. To a new incarnation in which there will be no trace of these Swans. The last journey undertaken by The Glowing Man is alarming and disturbing as only Michael Gira can teach. Restlessness never knows an end, meticulously weaving its web in which to trap you, as if you were immobilized in claustrophobic catacombs. It is time to embrace the psychedelic delirium that abstracts body and mind, only then can peace be finally found.

Finally, Peace.