At odd moments, music has this strange power to link genuinely different things, in a lifetime of a human being. One faces different situations in his life, explores, discovers, feels, loves and hates, and sometimes, it all connects through music. The soundtrack of an existence.
I recall the particular metal sound of a rail train from the North station, when I got a phone from my mother, asking me, nicely, If I could get some fruits and give it to a sick acquaintance of her, who unfortunately was fighting a miserable form of cancer. She didn’t have much money, my mother was telling me, and so a basket of fresh fruits might have cheered her up (and her mother as well, who was sharing the hospital room with). At first, I found myself in a Santa Claus situation, but after a few more questions and a few more answers received, I started to realize there’s not such a pleasant thing to do, refusing this favor, even if I didn’t know the person.
And so, my night continued nicely after this phone conversation, and the next day I woke up around noon with a huge headache from too much party and chaos from the previous night. In order to avoid causing any more havoc to my body, I drunk about 1,5 litters of tap water. I packed some fruits from the market nearby my apartment and jumped on the bicycle, to the hospital. It was about 15 km away from my place, I had to cross a big part of the city. The weather was extremely hot. I was literally all wet from the heat, but some waves of wind were giving me big comfort. Yes, intoxicated air from a big city, a high grade of pollution, at its best. So here I am, standing at the entrance of the big white building, which was terrifyingly revealing itself as a place where, once you got in there, you won’t be able to get out anymore. Ever. This is that kind of hospitals where you get to meet death, at its very own fascination, coldness and darkness. The place with no exit. The end of the journey.
While I was walking through a long hall, I could see, on my left and my right side, different rooms with the doors open. I could see patients laying down on their beds, watching TV, sleeping, eating or talking with other colleagues in sufferance. I had to walk until the end of the hall, on the left side, to meet the lady and give her the basket of fruits. There were so many patients in my way, all suffering, mumbling unknown words. One guy asked me for a cigarette. Sorry. I don’t smoke. But maybe you have some money? I gave him something and I walked away. After exploring each room through the hall, I finally reach its end, knock on the door, wait one or two moments and eventually get in.
Inside was hot as hell. A TV was turned on to some stupid show and a ventilator was moving to right, and turning back to the left. Two persons were laying in two different beds. One of them, the sick one, was young and extremely beautiful. She had such a powerful look. Even if she was extremely weakened, you could see the sparkle and vitality in her eyes, in her look. On the other bed was her mother. The lady, she smiled at me; I smiled back, flustered. Didn’t know what to say, what to do. I was frozen and all sweat. I took the basket and gave it to her. She smiled again, peacefully, and thanked me. She seemed to be quite happy about it. ”So you came all the way, on this heat outside, to get me fruits. That’s a really nice thing, you did.” I watched her, she had a warmth on her look, beautiful lips and an expression of serenity on her face. She looked physically exhausted and I could see the pain on her eyes. Fortunately, her mother was quiet. I put the basket under the table, say hello and get out, contented about the fact that I’ve successfully accomplished this uncommon mission. I was a carrier of death.
Three days after this, my mother phones me in the middle of the night to tell me about the sick lady that I previously encountered, which just died in hospital.
And now. This tape called ” Til Fæmpte Likamans Træd” it was a strange but beautiful companion throughout this entire event. There’s a helicopter flying above me, right now. Intoxicating infinity-acoustic-loop-drone gloom ambience, from the Swedish drone/metal musician Wagner Ödegård (Kumulonimbus of Tomhet and Wulkanaz). ”To best receive these soundwaves, I demand you to carry a large amount of drugs or to deepen yourself in contemplative meditation.”
“I fear for thee, rubicund weaver. He who ploughs across powdered damslely orchid fields. He with yellowy moon, graze me ´neath fragrant myrrh. ´Hove an host, gashed rhyme wisp dazzle. Meadowly opaque, the trance sway begotten and ghostish cloud Lord devour the swift gorse…and so I taketh Thee, ill twined clave. Spiralled tusk, spun out of hell. Beneath Death´s yawning gap and its cradling murmur of the abyss, a caleidoscopic lethargy of intoxication bewitch´d my temples. A conical vulture, daubed in yealding foam. Thorough repelling and sweet maul. Grime robed Demons tamed skies. Horned dogs with wondrous hoofs. Lifeless, like the stars are dangle in the vast spacevault, these monotonic sounds which with an drone, our wisdom pleading pours.”
Tracklist:
A1. ØđeharpærA2. Et Swindele Tøkn
A3. Til Dystra Stygia Siø
B1. Febereld
B2. Drekafluga
B3. Swunnen