domingo, 17 de enero de 2010

Age Of Silence - Acceleration (2004) [Norway (Oslo)]

1. Auditorium of Modern Movements 03:36
2. Acceleration 04:30
3. The Concept of Haste 04:09
4. A Song For D. Incorporated 04:59
5. The Green Office and The Dark Desk Drawer 04:17
6. The Flow at 09:30 am 06:25
7. Of Concrete and Glass 03:14
8. 90° Angles 07:19
9. I No Longer Know If I Am Mad 02:28
10. Synthetic, Fabricated, Calculated 04:11
Total 45:08

3 comentarios:

  1. 1. Auditorium Of Modern Movements

    This is the auditorium of modern movements
    A breeding ground for light speed profit thinking
    Where a biting shine exposes the possibilities of the flesh
    And the direction of the green flow

    This is the city of Soma - an idea brought to life
    And carefully designed by George Reed

    Founding member of Modern Architects Deluxe
    - "Constructing a new world for speed, efficiency and streamlined income"

    So you're climbing upwards through structures of metal and glass
    Subconsciously trying to reach the roof, but somehow there's always one more floor
    It's a strange mixture of soft thinking and hard work
    Or was it the other way around?
    The ground for comparison was trampled a long time ago,
    So no one really knows anymore
    Amidst this aimless craving for matter


    2. Acceleration

    Accelerating darkness
    Designer light
    Iron constructions, concrete and wood
    Flaring light echoing consumer minds

    Mountains are only future sand
    Forests are only unreleased heat
    Darkened glasses kill dirty rays
    Handbags weighed down with asphalt dust

    Thought process standardized
    Philosophy a set of guidelines for inefficiency
    Religion a fluffy cushion of synthetic feathers

    Life itself a mechanical movement from A to B
    C is always a thought but never an option


    3. The Concept Of Haste

    The cycle of life speeds up like a rabid biker
    Getting narrower for every turn
    Its silver tail not as shiny as it was
    The colossal width only paper thin
    Acceleration beyond light and darkness
    Welcome to the modern museum of life
    A strobe-like feeling of universal consequence

    The rate of change of velocity
    Merely a tool to make us see
    That no one can stand as still
    In such a speed as we always will

    Warm relations turn down the heat
    Dust is everywhere, all mouths are dry
    This is my nest - I'll defend it with my life

    Cosmological consequences of not relating
    Connections cut, no restrictions necessary
    Yesterday, today, tomorrow


    4. A Song For D. Incorporated

    They sent me an invoice
    - "P&S to be returned to D. Incorporated within the date of _."
    So I gave them a call. An angry one.

    9-113-451208

    I said: "Why are you invoicing me?"
    I heard whispers and slow breathing
    "I never made a purchase from you, so stop bothering me"
    The whispering stopped. The sound of hot air sustained
    "I demand an explanation"
    All went silent, and the phone seemed to get heavier
    A deep voice in the other end of the line:

    They sent me an invoice
    - "P&S to be returned to D. Incorporated within the date of _."
    So I gave them a call. An angry one.

    9-113-451208

    "It's not yours, you lease it
    It's not yours, you lease it"

    "Please be kind and return it to us
    Within the date stated on the invoice,
    Or we will have to come and claim it by force."

    "It's not yours, you lease it
    It's not yours, you lease it"

    ResponderEliminar
  2. 5. The Green Office And The Dark Desk Drawer

    I found it hidden in the very core of the city
    The building didn't do it justice, but then again no building would
    The office door ajar and the letters D.I. on everything

    It was empty when I arrived but the thick, damp air told me
    That someone had been there only minutes ago

    The room was painted in different shades of green
    All matching the colour of the flow
    And the interior, Spartan as it was, seemed to
    Underline the fact that this company was all about

    Control, direction and blatant satisfaction

    I saw invoices everywhere, and a thick mahogany table
    Covered with yellowed pieces of paper - they were lists, and it finally occurred to me
    - this was an administrative center for the P&S of our modern world
    "Such a fetid web of pretence!"

    It lay in the bottom of an old ashtray,
    Yellow and worn as the others, but somehow different.
    Two dates - one I knew and one I didn't.
    Both were passed, the second one very recently.
    I lifted the paper, folded it and slid it into my back pocket
    Then I left.

    Fundamental change - turn the direction of the breeze by force, crank it up to a storm
    Of the breeze by force, crank it up to a storm


    6. The Flow At 9:30 AM

    Coloured flashes never burned my eyes
    The way the dirty sun does
    On my way from the office,
    Through streets of bleached light,
    It came to me that what I had to do was
    To find the main flow and obstruct it
    It came to me that what I had to do was
    To find the main flow and obstruct it

    So I went to the cathedral.
    Nick-A was at the turntables as always
    The fans were already dancing like madmen

    So I went to the cathedral.
    Nick-A was at the turntables as always
    The fans were already dancing like madmen
    To the pulsating beat.
    It had a cashier-like quality

    A soundtrack working in verdant direction
    Mr. A kept chasing the flow with an ever-increasing BPM
    As the audience exchanged movements
    - bargaining for moves and grooves
    until power restrictions were enforced
    and the BPM sunk like a stone

    Coloured flashes never burned my eyes
    The way the dirty sun does
    On my way from the office,
    Through streets of bleached light,
    It came to me that what I had to do was
    To find the main flow and obstruct it
    It came to me that what I had to do was
    To find the main flow and obstruct it

    So I went to the cathedral.
    Nick-A was at the turntables
    The dancers were left in despair - discontented
    It was rumoured that some of them chose the red exit


    7. Of Concrete And Glass

    Found the core to stop the flow
    No obstruction, green pierces everything

    I have been washed

    Now the errors and faults are a blur
    See the glass under my feet and the reflection above
    It has all come to this:
    My view to the left and to the right has been lost

    Something is blocking it
    To help me focus on what is important
    For it and for them
    I have been eaten by dirty blocks of concrete
    And concept-paper
    But in the end, as I was sliding brutally through the system, the whole feeling of being digested turned out to be nothing more that the feather-soft caresses of a juggernaut world

    "P&S to be returned to _"
    I guess it's all set

    So it has come to this
    Measuring the distance
    Between this world and mine

    ResponderEliminar
  3. 8. 90 Degree Angles

    It has been done!
    The return is completed!
    Now to grow fainter
    To be buried in soft shades of jade

    I used to like the rainfalls - to feel tender bites
    of grey city water on my white, clean face
    pure from the start - dirty to the end
    drawing diagonal marks - shutting me into a private prison with bars of water on skin

    The smell of wet asphalt always softened up a hard world
    90 degree angles, shiny surfaces covered in dirt

    and worn out streets leading from nothing to nothing
    Who put us here anyway? Did I ever take the time to find out?
    Did they ever bother to ask? Was it even an option?
    It's been returned
    I wonder if the dirt has forced its way through my skin by now

    Feels like it's there - itching from the inside, weakening my flesh
    I need a sunblock or a dirtblock - something to protect me
    Nothing's ever gonna be the same again
    I'm on the wrong... surface

    Nothing's ever gonna be the same again
    Nothing's ever gonna be the same again

    Open up the shell, wash away the facade
    Let me out or let me in

    Open up the shell, wash away the facade
    Let me out or let me in

    Please just let me, Please just let me
    Please just let me, Please just let me


    9. I Know Longer Know If I Am Mad

    I no longer know if I am mad
    or if I'm feigning it to cover my own mediocrity
    I sometimes feel like a fell wizened necromancer
    labouring at his pleasure
    performing his liturgy as one long consumed by ashes

    Factory fumes nourishing the dreams of the cosmopolite
    Affectionate longing for white coats, auditoriums and blackboard dust
    Spiraling walkways, webs of concrete, bricks and mirrored glass
    I no longer know if I have experienced passion/love/despair/hate
    Was it only socially induced behaviour?
    Like long forgotten twisted poetry
    gleaned from mouldy parchment

    Pain is always more real than bliss
    It's in greater supply
    It's the warm familiar womb in which your mind can hide
    As your open doors and portals
    Walk the paved paths to offerings
    Foiled predetermined neurological patterns
    Like paper boats bound for the drains
    You speak the incantations written on grey mortal walls
    syllables tasting like blood in your mouth
    You know absolution
    You know mortality

    Reality slowly peeled layer by layer
    outwards to the fringe where upon the altar of forgotten deities
    the combustion of the self still vibrates
    Dark flowers thrusting their thorns up
    reaching where manifestations of the skies labour to fill the vacuum
    You seek to explain the universe with numbers
    Itch to fill in the final answer underlined twice
    Like an infant you step into the first light at dawn
    It's bright and bitter and sharp


    10. Synthetic, Fabricated, Calculated

    Somehow still here
    Under the surface
    Beyond the invoices and D. Inc.
    Outside the system

    I have never seen past the paper fortifications
    So I have my doubts
    But still, that nagging prospect
    Of all this being fabricated
    False
    Calculated
    Consumes me in all its green splendour
    But it doesn't touch

    Alluring and tempting, the shine and the flow
    Runs straight through me
    Now not even sensing my presence
    But I can see it, I can see it if I close my eyes
    I can break through the paper shine
    And reach the core, the true core
    Jade, Emerald

    Never defeated and never will be
    But exposed for everyone to see
    How can it still accelerate?
    When the fuel is gone?

    ResponderEliminar

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