Agalloch

Ultimo Aggiornamento: 18/07/2008 10:39

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ElveNKinG161

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BROCCOLO D'ORO 2008

18/07/2008 09:16

00#1

folk/gothic metal molto evocativo

Dimenticatevi violini, flauti e uso massiccio di fisarmoniche ...questi tre ragazzi vengono dall'Oregon e non hanno nessun legame con il folk di matrice europea.
Qui il folk si fa con la chitarra acustica. Punto.

E mescolano questo folk al gothic più triste, riflessivo, rarefatto

A mio avviso una delle migliori band americane dell'ultimo decennio

A desolation song

Here I sit at the fire
Liquor's bitter flames warm my languid soul
Here I drink alone and remember
A graven life, the stain of her memory
In this cup, love's poison
For love is the poison of life
Tip the cup, feed the fire,
And forget about useless hope...

Lost in the desolation of love
The passions we reap and sow
Lost in the desolation of life
This path that we walk...

Here's to love, the sickness
The great martyr of the soul
Here's to life, the vice
The great herald of misery
In this cup, spiritus frumenti
For this is the nectar of the spirit
Quench the thirst, drown the sorrow
And forget about cold yesterdays...

Lost in the desolation of love
The passions we reap and sow
Lost in the desolation of life
This path that we walk...
Lost in the desolation of love
The sorrows we reap and sow
Lost in the desolation of life
The path that we walk...

_________________

And love was there in vain, PROFOUND and deep but traced with pain - too early for a child of TEN
Loving the pure and sane he sought the goddess unstained - watching them turn to flesh again
HUNGRY for both the PURITY and SIN
Life seemed to him merely like a GALLERY of how to be
And he was always much more HUMAN than he wished to be
But there is a LOGIC to his world, if they could only see
(Pain of Salvation - Beyond the pale)

ElveNKinG161

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BROCCOLO D'ORO 2008

18/07/2008 09:20

00#2

A celebration of the death of the man (instrumental)

_________________

And love was there in vain, PROFOUND and deep but traced with pain - too early for a child of TEN
Loving the pure and sane he sought the goddess unstained - watching them turn to flesh again
HUNGRY for both the PURITY and SIN
Life seemed to him merely like a GALLERY of how to be
And he was always much more HUMAN than he wished to be
But there is a LOGIC to his world, if they could only see
(Pain of Salvation - Beyond the pale)

ElveNKinG161

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Post: 7.053

Registrato il: 13/09/2006

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BROCCOLO D'ORO 2008

18/07/2008 09:21

00#3

Odal (instrumental)

_________________

And love was there in vain, PROFOUND and deep but traced with pain - too early for a child of TEN
Loving the pure and sane he sought the goddess unstained - watching them turn to flesh again
HUNGRY for both the PURITY and SIN
Life seemed to him merely like a GALLERY of how to be
And he was always much more HUMAN than he wished to be
But there is a LOGIC to his world, if they could only see
(Pain of Salvation - Beyond the pale)

ElveNKinG161

OFFLINE

Post: 7.054

Registrato il: 13/09/2006

Città: CASARSA DELLA DELIZIA

Età: 41

Sesso: Maschile

Utente Power +

BROCCOLO D'ORO 2008

18/07/2008 09:29

00#4

Questa si avvicina più al black metal.

You Were But a Ghost In My Arms

Like snowfall, you cry a silent storm
Your tears paint rivers on this oaken wall. . .
Amber nectar, misery ichor
. . .cascading in streams of hallowed form
For each stain, a forsaken shadow

You are the lugubrious spirit
Etched in the oak of wonder
You are the sullen voice and silent storm

Each night I lay
Awakened by her shivering silent voice
From the shapes in the corridor walls.
It pierces the solitude like that of a distant scream
In the pitch-black forest of my delusion. . .

With each passing day, a deeper grave. . .

"Why did you leave me to die?"
"Why did you abandon me?"
"Why did you walk away and leave me bitterly yearning?"

Her haunting, contorted despair was etched into the wood's grain
Though fire rages within me, no fire burns fiercer than her desire
The shape whispers my name. . .

I damn this oak!
I damn her sorrow!
I damn these oaken corridors
That bear the ghosts of those I've thrown away!

Though tempted I am to caress her texture divine
And taste her pain sweet, sweet like brandy wine;
I must burn these halls, these corridors
And silence her shrill, tormenting voice
. . .forever. . .

Like snowfall, you cried a silent storm
No tears stain this dust in my hands
But from this ashen gray, her voice still
Whispers my name. . .

You were the lugubrious spirit
Who haunted the oak of wonder
You were the geist that warned this frozen silent storm
You were but a ghost in my arms

_________________

And love was there in vain, PROFOUND and deep but traced with pain - too early for a child of TEN
Loving the pure and sane he sought the goddess unstained - watching them turn to flesh again
HUNGRY for both the PURITY and SIN
Life seemed to him merely like a GALLERY of how to be
And he was always much more HUMAN than he wished to be
But there is a LOGIC to his world, if they could only see
(Pain of Salvation - Beyond the pale)