1. |
Control
05:43
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Control, gone wrong on me… Why?!
My thoughts are gone, unclear… Why?!
There’s nothing more, nor fear.
I’ll destroy your world… Now!
“Feel your mind’s going to fade,
Into the depths of smoke and rain…
As the lines on your palms deepen away
The cracks at your seams,
On a blood-stream storm of strain.”
Control, gone wrong on me… Why?!
My thoughts are gone, unclear… Why?!
Soiled hands bathed in blood.
I’ll devour your soul… Now!
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2. |
Coketa Molly
04:10
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En las noches de sudor, humo y escarcha,
lenguas se lían sin control, sombras se elevan y bailan,
gotas bajan por la piel, se deslizan y arañan,
el polvo llueve sin pudor, la sangre se dilata.
Oh, sí… oh, sí, oh no...
Son las ruinas de esta ciudad, gritos, cerdos y alarmas.
Luces negras, mármol de altar… ¡Se incendia mi alma!
Mueve el culito, me intoxico, oh,
mueve el culito, llueve perico…
Oh, sí… oh, sí, oh no...
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3. |
Ratwater
03:42
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Motionless… Still life by command
And I say: “What took you so long?”
- Still life by the water.
Lately we stick to the fence, faceless, hand-in-hand,
And I say: “As long as it feels good; as long as it kills you.”
Transmission from a lake of fire.
Transmission to sacred Ratwater.
Spare some meat…
Bite, spit, chew, fuck, hand-in-hand…
In the venomous pit.
Cannot stop reliving hellish nightmares
Filled with pleasure out of killing
What cannot be killed from within.
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4. |
Frégoli
03:28
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“Alimentaste una mentira,
solo por el miedo a la verdad…”
El juego absurdo se vuelve triste,
el ego envenenó tu intelecto ciego,
el viento se lleva tu esencia frágil,
espejo sombrío, sin reflejo, ardiste.
No, no te validaré.
No existes bajo esa piel.
Miradas ausentes suplican versos,
gimiendo para ahogar el silencio, gritos,
masturbas sueños imposibles, falsos,
palabras que no dicen nada; ¡validación!
No te validaré.
No existes bajo esa piel…
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5. |
Into the Mouth of Rán
04:04
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„Der Tod wältz immer über uns,
Wie eine warme Krippe
Die was von unsere müde Augenlider
Unsere befleckte Zähne
Und die salpetrige Umrisse unsere Gesichte übrig bleibt entgegensieht.
Bewußt bin ich der Zukumpft...
Wir wurden bei der Geburt Zerstört;
Aber immer noch von diese Meeren geschleppt,
Die zur Nichts führen,
Ohne Zeit und nirgendwo zo finden...“
Well aware I am of the morrow, the Seas…
—“The wave, with red stain running out of white Rán's mouth.”♆
We’re soon to be drowned, and yet away
From where tonight we toast and rumble…
[♆Snorri Sturluson. Prose Edda, Section XXV of “Skáldskaparmál”.
Translated by Arthur G. Brodeur (1916, 1923)]
„Auf der Reeperbahn nachts um halb eins,
Ob du'n Mädel hast oder hast kein's,
Amüsierst du dich, Denn das findet sich.
Auf der Reeperbahn nachts um halb eins.
Wer noch niemals in lustiger Nacht
Einen Reeperbahnbummel gemacht,
Ist ein armer Wicht, Denn er kennt dich nicht,
Mein St. Pauli, St. Pauli bei Nacht.“
[Ralph Arthur Roberts,
„Auf der Reeperbahn nachts um halb eins“ (1912)]
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6. |
Venus, la atrapamoscas
03:03
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Abismo absoluto nubla su realidad
y no hay calor que logre cautivar al loto mortal.
El humo espeso escapa en la espiral
y en pleno caos se acerca al mar;
ella es terror astral.
Venus se impacienta, no hay otra como ella…
y se elevó en humaradas tornasol.
Muerte pequeña, luto superficial
y no me atrevo a quererle alcanzar.
Ella es inmune a la gravedad…
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7. |
El culto al Hongo Azul
05:10
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Ahí viene el Tigre,
ahí viene Tillor,
ahí viene Mombo
y ahí viene el Hongo.
Un Hongo Azul, bajo un sol sin halos,
en la agria voz, como pasto ensangrentado,
una canción que se aruña los costados,
nuestra carne azul entre versos ahorcados.
Y elevamos las manos sin trasluz,
a un cometa en rabia;
dioses sin ojos bailan en humos del tabaco
y bebemos de un mar.
Somos una canción que desciende
hasta setas que llueven su piel…
“Niños santos”.
Niños muertos.
Espiramos la esencia,
somos el último instante,
misa de intermitencia,
en este culto azul...
Ahí viene el Tigre,
ahí viene Tillor,
ahí viene Mombo
y ahí viene el Hongo.
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8. |
Sleepyhead
03:23
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Tangled up in a sea of serpents,
Slowly losing my sight, I can hardly breathe.
A single light keeps lurking
In the sleepless nights, ruled by the beasts.
The moon controls all minds and souls.
I'm beginning to like this sweet disease.
The moonlight glows, confusion grows,
As the stars in the skyline disappear.
All the thoughts in my head grow darker,
Branches sharp as knives, peeling off my skin.
The sky turning red and starless,
All I do is smile as I bathe in sin.
The wind controls all minds and souls.
I'm beginning to like this freezing breeze.
The wolf-pack growls, all roses froze,
As the stars in the skyline disappear... again...
And I grow, mind and soul,
And I grow, mind controlled…
And I grow, mind and soul,
And I grow, mind controlled…
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9. |
Son demasiados Harrys...
03:47
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Harrys, muchos, Harrys…
“No hay nada que pueda hacer al respecto”.
Harrys, muchos, Harrys...
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10. |
Trite
02:44
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This is a song you’ve heard before,
Alone, in the dark rooms
Where your childhood was wont to hide.
This is a sign we’ve seen before,
As the world rips around us.
Now, you see that: “I don’t mind, at all”.
So, you turned your radio on
To listen to the same old songs you already know.
‘Cause you’re drowned in the past,
A past you never had; wasn’t yours, not even mine.
This is a song you’ve heard before,
Yet you sing along the madness,
As one unable to realize you’re worn.
This is a path we’ve walked before,
Together thru the gardens,
But all our flowers already dried scorned.
So, you turned your radio on
To listen to the same old songs you already know.
‘Cause you’re drowned in the past,
A past you never had; wasn’t yours, not even mine.
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11. |
ʘ
02:41
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«Auroram Lucifer præit, Sol sequitur.
Aurora fidei Lux intelligitur,
Quam verus, O Lucifer surgendo contulit…
Perhenni Domino Lucifer sit gloria.»
[Petrus Abaelardus. Hymnarius Paraclitensis.
“Hymni Diurni, Pars Altera. XI. QUOTIDIE. Ad Primam.” (1891)]
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12. |
O Light of Dawn
07:24
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Blackened sun, weaving strains of fog,
A-burning above the Land of Flies.
Path of Thorns, for those weak at heart.
Fed on into the children cries.
Piercing chimes, hymns of loathe.
Aching hands of submission;
Oozing smoke, anointed and swung,
Thurible of burning superstitions!
O Lucifer… ille qui nescit occasum.
Take our hands and embrace our stained souls.
Sulphur clouds. Enlightening shouting star!
ἑωσφόρος unbinding Venus fire!
O Light of Dawn...
Emancipation from obscured dogma,
Obliteration of all temples behind the Sun.
«Quomodo cecidisti de caelo, O Fili Aurorae?!
Lux excelsis Aurorae!
In caelum conscendam, Super Astra Dei:
“exaltabo solium meum!”»
[St. Jerome, the Vulgate (Is.:14.12-14)]
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Hongo Fuu San José, Costa Rica
Sonic-psichic waves created by living matter in constant decay floating in a dark infinite space.
Flujos psico-sonoros creados por materia viva en constante putrefacción flotando en un oscuro espacio infinito.
Hongo Fuu recommends:
El Retorno del Coyotico
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Art-Rock band from San José, Costa Rica.
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Killer psych rock coming from Bilbao, Spain.
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On “Spirit Breeze,” Dylan Gilbert starts from folk roots, but gradually adorns his songs with rich textural elements.
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A wild post-rock adventure, powered by complex percussion, jagged guitar lines, and bright vibraphone.
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