azal

taj koncert moze da se gleda ako nabavite 5 Years In A Live Time... imate dosta interesantnih gostovanja....kao sto je vec Cheda spomenuo, Barney iz Napalm Death... osim njega imas i neke prog rock legende..Steve Rothery i Steve Hogarth iz Marillion-a....i gitarmajstor iz Yes-a Steve Howe.

ovaj Galvatron toliko mrzi Moondive, a dolazi na yumetal i cita temu o njima svakog dana.

ufff Junk Tooth je nesto novo....nije zvanicno izdanje....... moraces to da mi das

tu sam mada znam kako ce to vece da se zavrsi..... ubicu se od alkohola ili narkotike....preslusacu Kayo Dot..zaplakacu i prestacu tog momenta da se bavim muzikom ...

kad ces Kayo Dot da dobijes???????

imam svih pet albuma i solo album Mattias-a "Freak Guitar" prog + power pop + Steve Vai mislim da ne moze bolje meni je Dead Soul Men omiljeni.

Mastadon su...cini mi se iz New Orleans-a...Louisiana, USA .... ne znam kako da objasnim tacno sta sviraju...vrlo je agresivno i energicno....bubnjar je zmaj. cini mi se da imas na mp3.com-u pesme da skines.... ja sam cuo pesmu "March of the Fire Ants" i odusevio sam se. nemam pojma gde da nabavim album, nazalost

jurim godinu dana........gledao sam ih uzivo i oduvali su me.

imali neko ovo?? (zna se koga pitam) nasta lici?

usrao sam se.

kakav si ti ljakse.... metal nije rat....metal je muzika.... protiv koga se ti boris?? i kako? i cime? i zasto? i dokle?

ma zajebavam se..........starac.....sa godinama ode ti i smisao za humor

pa...ja

bubnjar iz Graveland-a .......... duh.

Akhalatabarnakh iz Northwood Ice Pentagrams "Akhalatabarnakh hateful shrieks use absolutely no distortion whatsoever, and are directly the mournful screams of his tortured throat, only enhanced by the echo of the darktower studios. The fusion of these element create the ultimate NORTHWOOD BLACK METAL, and will send your mind into the dark age! Where the prime evil dwelled!"

i kao sto je Cynic rekao...ako mislis da je Home originalna pesma.... sigurno nisu cuo 46 and 2 od Tool-a.

Six Degrees je uzasno neoriginalan album.... The Great Debate zvuci kao tool sa jadnim pevacem i glupim zvukom bas bubnja.... Ona poslednja pesma, balada, na prvom disku...kako god da se zove...je po stilu, aranzmanu i feeling-u cist Radiohead.... A na drugom disku poslusajte Solitary Shell pa onda Solsbury Hill of Peter-a Gabriel-a....bukvalno ista pesma. nadam se da ce ovaj album biti bolji...i bez onij glupih solaza gde Petrucci i Ruddess jamuju po 4 minuta....kao da slusam Malmsteen-a.

ufff Sammet je bas gadan lik...ali jebiga....opet vredi videti taj DVD. a:

odlicni ste bili. samo napred! a:

omoti nisu ruzni.... nisu metal omoti...nema zmajeva i nabildovanih muskaraca pa niste navikli evo su i textovi....samo jos muzika da stigne a: Marathon And so ten centuries solemnly collide Love failed and I have Lost my Name Secrecy hoards the treasure Coveted most by me As rainwater collects in barrels Sleep covers Abuse with Time Too many dream-haunted hours Leaves me with seasons swelling and growing And without welcome, fading Something makes sense in ripples Grief is the corpse from which worms feed Alas, I am not this stricken man Suspended by sunlight, shadows break Their silent vigil As rainwater collects in barrels Lucifer rose up to kiss the analgesic dawn While below, Something roll'd the stone away Something makes sense in ripples Gradually, I saw Abuse is a Name And ghosts will seem forever Less fantastic ===================== Azure-Lidded World Like a kiss, soft, and wild with the delicate steps of petals fallen in a stream This swirling ballerina turns in faint and sighing grandeur Across the floor to me. A monarch plays the violin to a summer's afternoon Whilst quietly the earthworm adores the soil in winter's sparkling gloom It breaks away, growing as the flowers do. A thunderhead embraces his enraptured lover And kisses with a gale that also makes the cattails shudder. His tears cannot, as he proclaims his love, be held with lightning back; They fondly dance into an open window And fondly dance with mine. Our eyelashes weaken with a weight that is sweet and fine, And this feels like frogs and spiders in the sweet outside. Tell me why world, unfathomable and good, The beauty of everything is infinite and cruel. An airplane, a puppet, an orange, a spoon, A window, and outside Stars and the moon. ========================== A Pitcher of Summer One morning, before the leaves began changing I caught a piece of summer and poured it into a pitcher; This I placed in the cellar on a shelf collecting dust . Autumn, then winter, rose up from the sea, and my Garden was a garden filled with unbroken snow. No flower strained its face to the ice giants' whisper, No life coloured the vision of a newborn Spring babe. My cellar-water dripping into a pail And I lifted my piece of summer Like a piece of memory or a dream Like these, caught on film And carried it to the garden floes, The wind turning drifting stars to madness. Poured forth gracefully, this ætheric tincture Lifts winter's coat-of-arms with coaxing aromas and electricity. Used with vigilance, a Pitcher of Summer stirs a memory into swooning, And bravely, the flowers of the past will stretch their limbs into the sky While snow falls quietly all around. ================================= The Manifold Curiosity It never hurt this much before, And I feel I'm courting Saturn. The Twelve-Eyed Secret gazes through a prism, Staring into raindrops swirling slow It lifts its horrible heads With lidless orbs of limitless vision. I dream with fluid movements in a lake The ripples cast from skipping stones We speak below a gushing mind, Crouching in a corner, hid behind a box Full of Worms and stalking shadows. Magnetism draws me to a cone of space; I sift still through hours of its plasma, Biding time until the clocks collapse. Music shattered my spine on the steps outside; I cannot move; my liquid breathing Is sculpted with this binding gel. But come, my love, and rescue me From failure. Cover me with an opium sheet, Embrace me with gossamer; Kiss the moonstones from my eyes And brush the cobwebs from my bones. It all sings beautifully; With all your strength believe this. But I know you can't understand Why I threw myself from the glass again. ================================== Wayfarer Sing to me a romance, sire That splendid trod the starry roads. All ye dust-strewn travellers, hasten To the hearthside! What seest thou, wayfarer, Upon thy journey to a citrine sun? Caves of candlelight with amethyst imbued, Opal skulls of opal creatures decorating tombs! Woods of columned water supporting ceilings breathing blue, Seascapes fill‚d with poison, lonely, waiting for the few Final scarlet denizens to march into the scorching fumes! Stalks of lapis lazuli groaning against a tired breeze, Sparkling in the quaint moonlight, and owls‚ eyes in sapphire trees, Hooting to one year of moons that hang on petals in the air! Growing ghosts in silver pots upon a silent windowsill, Built into the side of nothing built into a nothing hill! A cage that housed a nightingale was hung upon a shepherd's crook; He lightly stepp'd across the tide, his statuary effervescing. Boughs dipped their lovely heads into the lake of one-thousand tiers To admire an Absinthe floodgate, and a piquant gallery. Morning, and the dreamers fade Like lovers‚ gazes past their hour. Cannot sunrise wait forever For its time? Farewell, starry wayfarer, I'll bless thy name when dreameth I of thine. ======================================= The Antique Dust fills my Mouth with a Timeless Poltergeist Rapping Lightly upon a Dusty Door; It Locks the Days together Yesterday This Artefact wasn‚t rightly so. Flanked by Shelves incorporating me into their Lonely Dream, I search for Tremors lying Weeping 'Neath the Broken Tiled Floor Weeping with a Broken Madness, Weeping for the Day Before. Tarnished Silver in the Cupboard soothes The Fathoms of my Aching Silver Beard; Like Shining Eyes scoured by A Sour Creaking Gait, Cataracts dim the Eloquence that wore The Shining Cloak of younger Pride, And This was Long, Long before their Careless Keeper died. A Revenant spread its Foul Curse to Every Living Thing With Stories trapp‚d on Yellowed Pages By Talismans of Poignant Lethargy. Tales Twilit bear their Ruin‚d Words To this Ghoulish Scenery, Slouching over Candlelight Extinguished in another Century. The Grandfather Clock once Told its Beads, While Outside the Branches Bowed their Windows slightly Out of Key. And this Downstairs, where a Forlorn Clock has long since Lost its Faith, And a House's Stale Breath sighs like the Whispers of a Wraith. Spiders Decorate an Appearance That stretches Gnarled Hands Back into a Relinquished Parlour Game; Wisps of Ghostly Languor hinting faintly of Perique Ring the Ancyent Air and Fade, Murmuring of Things Antique.

ne seri. *kiss*

prva recenzija www.indieworkshop.com Kayo Dot - Choirs of the Eye Tzadik Records For all the posturing that the indie scene does, it’s still a very close-minded group of music listeners. Go ahead, roll your eyes if you want, but look around you, you know it’s true. Half of the bands that “make it” in the scene are due to the press. It’s sad, but it is true. Most seem willing to stay inside their little spectrum of musical knowledge. Content to hear the same four or five genres played by hundreds of different bands. It’s only once in a great while, usually due to an amazing album, that the small circle that is indie music will open up its collective eyes to something totally new. Enter Kayo Dot. Once known as maudlin of the Well, Kayo Dot has shed its original, metal scene aligned name, to bring you something you’ve probably never heard before… and if for not another album, will probably never hear again. A simple but perplexing math equation has helped me describe Choirs of the Eye to a few friends… it’s as follows. Jeff Buckley + Sigur Ros + Isis + the Boston Philharmonic = Kayo Dot Interested? You should be, because this is easily the most original album I’ve heard in over a year, maybe two. Toby Driver sings with all the passion of the late Buckley, maybe not with the same strength in his voice, but come on, that is a tall order to fill. But, not only is he responsible for the delicate passages, like the amazing end to “A Pitcher of Summer”, but for the guttural bellows similar to fellow Bostonites Isis. Now, before you metal heads (God I hope there are a few of you out there) start thinking Opeth, you are already off the mark. Where Opeth still dwells heavily in the realm of metal, Kayo Dot has put all memory of that scene behind them. Instead of trying to make metal more orchestrated, they are making the dreamlike swells of Sigur Ros heavier. They are taking not only their guitars, keyboards, bass and drums to new musical spaces, but they are taking their french horns, violins, cellos, flutes, and clarinets (to name a few) along for the ride. Trust me, you’ve never heard anything more painstakingly thought out before. Consider that this five-song album took two years to finish. Granted it has a little something to do with available funds and studio time… but part of me thinks this wouldn’t have worked out how it did if it was all recorded within a month. Consider that one of the songs has some 96-recorded tracks on it (an engineers worst nightmare… imagine the mixing process!). It should be obvious at this point that Kayo Dot is not working in the spectrum of the pop song. For only being made up of five songs, the album clocks in at just under an hour. And everything within that hour is a listening experience not for the faint of heart. Nor is it for the close-minded. It’s a record designed to open minds, not one to fit into a perfect little title of a genre. And on a personal note, this might be the best headphones album I own… surpassing Hum. The subtleties that hide throughout the album are too numerous to recount, but it makes multiple listens a must AND a pleasure. And, another note, if you are not sold on the genius that is held in this album after hearing the crescendo around 4:30 of the fourth track, “Wayfarer”, this might just be lost on you. I hope there are a handful of you out there that has the nerve to give this one a listen. I hope that I have convinced you to at least give it a shot. And if not, I at least hope there is some kid out there that stumbled into this web site by typing “Opeth” into google, that will listen to this and thoroughly gets his mind blown.

i ja kazem.

Cult of Luna su isto mnogo, mnogo dobri... ali su mi Isis ipak vrh ovog pravca.

Kayo Dot - Choirs of the Eye 21 oktobar jos malo a: a: