Covid Diaries (experimental ambient metal)

by Nagaarum

/
1.
Our vain superiority in dread of losing rank quails before the invisible threat slowly drawing near. Shared vulnerability puts visors on our masks; that we might have to reinvent ourselves is what we fear. Our make-believe values tend to fade behind the bars, the institution of fallacy on low battery in our pockets. The derailed wheels of consumerism overgrown by vines, new eyes have been given to our hitherto blind sockets. Devices of mass alienation, our well-deserved means to stay connected, adrift in a coffin towards extinction, Or aboard a lifeboat well-protected?
2.
Its yellow cheeks – soon paled into white, the third face was black, then it conquered every pigment, made them all its own ‘till there were no colours. Everything was red. The 20th of March brought 40 metres along. It cast an eye at us, then moved towards the heat, and before it returns in a few decades, a decision will be made. In ’38 we all might just pass through. Or is it in ’60? Mr. Newton. Please help me read the signs!
3.
Conjunction of the planets is the source of our growing fear, alarming stars aglow with threat – on the bright celestial sphere. Spread mugwort and rosemary on cattle spleen and cloven hoof, grey ash mixed with molten yellow sulphur keeps the harm aloof. Whether you’re a bag of bones, a child or weather-beaten imp, beware of the cat, but mainly if it’s black and has a limp. The word was carried by the wind, so hear the shamans’ melody: Eating yew and elderberry saves you from the malady. Superstitions have no power over me so I’m not scared, I keep a rabbit’s foot in my bag; I’m protected, I’ll be spared. Germs, no matter how pernicious, will not knock me to the ground, if I have the paper on me, no misfortune lurks around.
4.
Competitors 03:14
Vera says: I’ll kill you. I’m not a lamb. My name is sheer femininity, and if you come closer, our rendezvous will be as adventurous as if with a woman. This rapture will bring itchy blisters, blindness, but I might eventually spare your life so you can remember my gentle touch for a long time. Yersinia says: I’ll kill you. I’m a desirable woman, I’ll bewitch you, I’ll seduce you, I’ll hit you on the seventh day, then I’ll beat you to a pulp. My stark naked charm will strip you and make you squirm until you lose your sanity. I’ll pulverize you, I’ll ignite you so you can boil in your own blood. Rosie says: I’ll kill you. I’m a patient woman as opposed to my sisters. I’m going to toy with you for decades. I have a variety of methods. You’ll atrophy or rot away, but rest assured that you don’t have to make that choice. I wouldn’t burden you with that.
5.
I Am Special 07:16
No sudden attack, it’s sneaking around, laying mines instead of a bomb, scratching wounds, bouts of fever, no quick lashes, it drags you along. “I’m sure I can get away with it, I know it’ll steer clear of me, even if every rubbernecker succumbs to the odds around me. I’ll take pills, apply compresses, or get drunk, it’s tried and true! I reject submission, deny perdition, tansy leaves will pull me through. I’m going out, I’m strong and sturdy, I’m sure I’m gonna be okay. Doctor, cut the crap, I couldn’t care less about what you say.”
6.
Last night my dreams were different, blood was all I could see, humiliating me. It affects me, it affects her, the way we doubt the future, anxiety takes over, inspires the composer. And the wind that passes by brings clouds we can't defy to fill the sky. But yesterday we changed and so will we tomorrow when the yeast and white flour turn to baked bread we swallow. Our dreams have become startling, we're afraid the end is near. Hallucination, vertigo, and man's still unaware, a sleepwalking ego to go mad - fuming in despair. A transiently blinded orphan goes deaf beyond repair. And when the clouds finally clear, you'll rush to reappear out here until Mother Earth decides we've failed. We were the children who once prevailed. That ship has sailed... It's the day after tomorrow... But where? Was this the place where we were held by hand in grace? Who did this? It's way too odd. Spitting fire onto blood, like cat that bites the sick dog's tail, like wriggling fish inside the whale. Who did this? I did... you did... we did... they did... I say: that’s enough! These are not the times when I could trust you with a solution or rely on your clear judgement. I have to act now because you simply won’t do it. Time has come for me to use my immune system and all my efforts to cleanse and vitalize those that are meant to live. You believe the era of the Sun has come to an end, yet it should be about to begin. You believe you are in charge with all the arrangements. You think you know what’s good for this place. You don’t know. You know nothing. Or perhaps you hide what’s real from those who still believe you. I say: that’s enough! If you can’t sort this out, I will. I, the Earth.

about

"Although I said there wouldn’t be any Nagaarum records coming out this year, this pandemic of 2020 has interfered with my plans because it inspires me like hell. Those who are familiar with my discography will know that I wrote an album in 2014 about a pandemic that would break out in 2019. As this prediction has become reality, I feel I also have to write about the real thing. A record that would complete Rabies Lyssa as the fulfilment of the prophecy.
But I also enjoy adding a few twists to what I’m doing, so you’re about to witness a record in the making, which means that as soon as I finish recording a song, you’ll be able to hear it instantly on the label’s YouTube page. I’m going to release the album song by song. When all is done, you’ll also find the album on Bandcamp, downloadable for free.
This is quite an exciting task for me - and also for my followers, I hope - because the feedback you give me can actually influence the otherwise totally eclectic creative process of a Nagaarum record. So, for the first time, you’ll be able to guide the album toward its denouement.
The Apples album, released in 2018 by Aesthetic Death and NGC Prod, introduced my respectable guest, Roland Szabó, one of the editors of Fémforgács webzine, who enhanced the value of the record with his voice and his English translations. Unless the quarantine stops us from doing so, I’ll rely on his work once again. The entire process will be supervised by my all-time producer, Betty Varga.
I must also add that there was someone who talked me into doing this, or at least encouraged me, and he’s a good friend of mine, Tibor Szabó.
I’m not planning to catch the virus, but if it happens, the record will be done anyway – unless, somewhat ironically, I die while recording, which is not among my plans, either.
This is what you can call my humble contribution to your staying at home in voluntary quarantine – hoping that listening to my songs will make you stay put for a while."
- Nagaarum -

credits

released May 15, 2020

Nagaarum - all instruments, male vocals, lyrics, mixing and mastering, artwork
Betty V. - female vocals
Roland Szabó - narrations, lyrics in track1

Producer - Nagaarum & Betty V.
English translation of the lyrics - Roland Szabó

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NGC Prod Hungary

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Our aim is to help the underground bands and push on to spread their albums. We are focusing on black / doom / post metal, punk, powerviolence, psychedelic, experiment and ambient styles.
Conceived in 2012. Born in 2017.
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