Velvet Cacoon
Genevieve

LA RECENSIONE

Velvet Cacoon, a dark forest in the heart of Oregon, inhabited only by two individuals who hide their identities behind cryptic codes, crafting in silence a discography far more fertile than one might imagine based solely on official works.

Genevieve, what is it that has never stopped haunting you?

Surrealism of a landscape pierced by the perversion of guitars reverberated to death, overloaded with echoes of frightening iciness.

An eclipse extending its boundaries into terrain where life is ending its cycle, leaving only a tormented voice to bear the cost and narrate the desolation of an unyielding winter.

Devour every moment of this freezing alienation with feverish hunger, the strength of a dark, cold, irrefutable nature that demands your essence, dragging and draining all your energy.

The entropy of a system that finally justifies its existence, ceases to contemplate itself as an end and utilizes the slow and patient work of corrosion of a sound that seems to emanate from underwater to shatter and erode piece by piece reality to reassemble it on other levels.

Slowly fades the last track, Beta Noir...Then everything ends, and there's only a starry sky left, where I found myself. An icy grip on the heart.

They told me that winter was still far away.

I didn't want to believe it