Hoje trago-vos um estilo um pouco diferente do habitual, mas que já foi o estilo que ouvia diariamente. É com “Mechanical Eyes” que vos apresento Orochen, uma banda de rock progressivo nórdica (da Suécia), que nos traz uma epopeia sonora, com uma letra mordaz.
The backbone of Orochen is Jonas Mattsson’s songwriting. Dark contemplations of a world where both man and matter are considered an economic resource. A demystified, post-capitalistic wasteland where nothing is allowed to live if it doesn’t provide an economic value. Existence is sold and bought with a shared belief, the utmost common myth of our time – that money equals value.
Para além de uma arte gráfica impressionista, o que me levou a fazer esta partilha foi em parte a nostalgia de sentir uma maior expressão de emoções mais negras, mais críticas, através da música. Existe sempre uma reivindicação e uma espécie de procura de redenção que nem sempre tem um final feliz. Acho que ficou uma música muito interessante. Ouçam por vós mesmos.
Mais novidades fresquinhas na playlist do Spotify FreshFindings.
Blissful hands with roses
it is what it seems
and it lies only to be forgiven
A comeback from death but a spiral that leads back underground
It is here to save us, it is here to be
The lie that will be forgiven
A passing through grasslands and trees
and it meets the sea
And look through mechanical eyes of
zeroes and ones
Broken down on a piece of paper
Leave all wet faces of concrete
like in a cows last breath
Hidden beside the highway to be lost
Everything they gave us, everything we own
It lies, only to be forgiven
It’s a cage of time and a designed desire just for you
It is here to save us, it is here to be
The lie that will be forgiven
A passing through grasslands and trees and it meets the sea
And look through mechanical eyes of
zeroes and ones
Broken down on a piece of paper
Leave all wet faces of concrete
like in a cows last breath
Hidden beside the highway to be lost
The knifes edge in the fire, all warm and red as it makes an entrance in your chest
And it flows through your mind and leaves a touch of despair
And the struggle has claimed a patch of land inside your head to grow all them seeds
Just meet them with those brand-new mechanical eyes
The knifes edge in the fire, all warm and red as it makes an entrance in your chest
And the struggle has claimed a patch of land inside your head
Just meet them with those brand-new mechanical eyes
