Comus

A wind shakes the barley, moving ever slowly through the field. A child stops, and is amazed by the beauty, he sees into the eyes of god, and forever he is saved. An old man repents his sins and passes away a minute later, an anguished expression on his face. People line the streets to see the parade; a band marches forward, defiant, strong and proud. Slowly building up their momentum, ready to burst.

The caterwaul of a machine cuts through the peaceful air, but is muffled by the band, many cheer, others are afraid. A Storm approaches, the band goes for one last hurrah before the crowd scatters. The wind that shakes the barley has been joined by rain, the child long since gone, faded away. The field is ravaged, and the farmer takes his life, for a brief moment he sees peace, he knows peace, he becomes peace.

A trickle of water flows down the avenue, joined by another the water flows almost silently, weaving patterns through the cobbles. But no one can see the beauty; all they can see is destruction. The Storm rages, but the philosopher sees only the calm, the beating rhythm of rain, the music of the wind. The tribal urges within him send him mad; he runs into the storm and is never seen again.

This is the impression you should get from the first 16 or so minutes of this album, and needless to say it only gets better. This album has it all, beauty, abrasiveness, emotion, and most of all: complete control. You feel like you’re listening to something that has been crafted by the finest artisans, and I’d pretty much say you are. There’s nothing else to say about this album except for those of you who haven’t heard it, do so… NOW.

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last.fm