Get all 19 Carlton Heston releases available on Bandcamp and save 30%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of The Old Gods Waken, Netanyahu Cancels US Trip for Israeli Delegation, The President of the USA is Currently Being Sued for Complicity in what The Hague (in a recent 15-2 ruling) has called an Ongoing Genocide, Hollow Night / More Sad Ghost Music, Atlanta Monsters' Ball, Night Elves, 13th, Alive By Some Hideous Strength, and 11 more.
1. |
Dreaming of an Ocean
02:39
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They were dreaming of an ocean. Its black waves washed a rocky shore,
stretching for miles, seen from any window on the east side of the 13th floor.
Cast among rocks and fluttering minnows, a gaze cast backwards to the coast out of twin eyes reflecting in the dizzy light, spinning through the cold and lashing foam.
It lived in a world of icy wonder, of structures laid beneath the tide, of wundruss things, flashing in the broken beams of the sea queen's gleaming eye.
Yes, here divided moonlight empires where nary a sun beam should appear, and in the day all that's glorious fades away 'til dreams reclaim what's never here.
The siren swims through mist and mirrors, and someone turns towards the sea. Ambitious emptyness calling from the drowning depths, a song which rings out in the lies of sleep.
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Sometimes they don't see you when you're coming,
others they may know, but they don't care.
I hear you like the loudest river running,
I see you, though they may say you aren't there.
Shut the lights, and whisper quiet
a last exhaustive sigh,
down upon the frozen shapes that lie.
Move across the darkness like a hurricane of light
scattering the little things you find.
Wreckage that lies wayside in the morning
is just pieces of what's yet to come.
Gone will be the faces and their carving,
leave only the embrace for which they've yearned.
Shut the lights, and whisper quiet
a last exhaustive sigh,
down upon the frozen shapes that lie.
Move across the darkness like a hurricane of light
scattering the little things you find.
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3. |
Die in Darkness
02:36
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Once one of those other ones looked up to the sky,
a litany list of questions was inscripted on the mind.
"To whom and which and where, for what utility am I?"
an eternity of answers flooded back to where you lie:
"In darkness, you can die,
In darkness, there's nothing there to keep your eyes
focused on their cut and fed on statues carved up by this light"
which eagerly are waiting on a cat's eye marble stair,
there's just enough to see the steps, with less they'd disappear
and retract back into the cataracts' blackness,
pitch abyss which sinks beneath the tears,
they wash away. No one's counting years,
all the time, once counted, falls away
out on a distant tide, fading to the edges of my eye.
Anyway, the answer came, and they were satisfied.
Any word about it is a waste of time
in darkness and false light.
Where it casts its shadows, it is better to be blind.
In pursuit of unseen truth, the only use for one is just to die.
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Downstairs, Gini's rustling through the cupboard.
Listen very closely: cans are falling over,
little knobs are turning, screws are twisting outward,
gears in Gini's brain are rolling like a locomotive
careening over railing nearly broken,
steamhammer driver comes storming into morning
shining so bright that the stars can be seen anywhere there's light
provided that you wear sunglasses, shading out the other sights
along the path of Gin's creation, raging imagination's sunrise
beating out the avian sounds, who lament the yellow sign
and draw back for a choral spire, raising skinless tower's spine,
or falling to the dull creation, like the heaven's fishing line,
ensnared horizon draws back pages from the book of time
and leaves the cupboard trashed again - another empty night.
Downstairs, Gini's rustling through the cupboard.
Listen very closely: cans are falling over,
little knobs are turning, screws are twisting outward,
gears in Gini's brain are rolling like a locomotive.
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5. |
The Weak One
02:46
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I know it's kitsch; my only wish is to be out of time.
I am not alone in this, there are many so inclined,
washed like cysts in rivers, twisted courses of their lives,
smooth in all directions, current passes them behind
where their deeds have been designed
and every judgment that would pass is justified
even if at first it was mistaken, or a lie,
eventually, all prejudice is, through action realized:
man is born as evil as he dies.
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Carlton Heston Atlanta, Georgia
If you're reading this - Gods of the Dead is the good one. Listen to that first if you're going to listen to anything on here. It's actually pretty solid.
Atlanta Monsters' Ball is also nice.
Carlton Heston recommends:
The Long Winter
by ππ¦π«ππ©π©πΆ βππππΆ
Maybe the best of 2021.
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A bona fide classic.
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Try it.
go to albumIf you like Hollow Night / More Sad Ghost Music, you may also like:
Ian Russell took isolation as a chance to get closer with his guitar, resulting in this lovely set of meditative acoustic instrumentals.
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Sorry I'm So Sensitive
by Bea Stewart
The second EP from Northern Irish singer-songwriter Bea Stewart runs from gentle folk to pillowy pop ballads, all perfectly executed.
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Michelle Stodartβs folk music captures hope in melancholy, addressing the transformational aspects of the most challenging times.
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