Nervous and frantic, I began to twitch in eager anticipation as I was led from the flowered, fragrant bath. Guided by cloaked and hooded figures, I was to remain secluded until until I was truly cleansed. An intoxicating scent lingered in the air - sage combined with burning flesh. Shrieks and moans mixed with thunderous, booming noises as I was became blinded. Unable to see, able to hear, I had no idea what was truly in store for me. I could hear the footsteps, the heavy breathing, and the sweat pouring down from my chin. No longer did I feel the pain I was subjected to. Free from the unbridled violations, the poking and rampant prodding, I became enlightened, purged of all worldly aspirations and desires. Like a child would pull bark from a tree - I could what I once called my skin being yanked and uprooted. My flesh, newly molted and expunged, fell before my very feet. Reborn martyr - unlocking untold secrets.
Kidcity’s newest track is puslatingly ghostly - apparition pop. Spooky, vexing but infectious “Bloody Face” seems to linger and swirl over a pounding, atmospheric rhythm. The vocal work offsets the gloomy - lending a sort of joyous sing song aspect to what could be seen as murky and mournful. Confident and forgiving. An ethereal enchantress beckoning, reassuring the aching, the pain is only the next step in your enlightenment.
♪ File under: lo-fi, dark pop, darkwave, oh my
We would stalk the fields, watching and waiting for the perfect time to strike. At night, when all seemed hopeless, we could ransack empty houses in hopes of survival - stealing rice and eating until our bellies were full. After we stole what we could off the wanderers in the night, we’d bury our decaying secrets deep below the ground. Playing upon my fears, you would dance around madly, masked and uninhibited, in the night, a darkened Noh routine for two.
As the weather is cools down, I notice more of a shift in my playlists. The usual warm, sunny jangly lo-fi seems to be falling lower on the list and slower, nebulous tunes are appearing. Out crawls the caliginiously kissed wunderkind - Indigochild - feeding us with much needed darkwave beats. Shadowy, wobbling, pulsating synths and hushed vocals create an ominous, captivating atmosphere. Like enthusiastically embracing the ghoulish with open arms.
You can download some tracks at last.fm.
♪ File under: dark wave, witch house, (ﾟДﾟ|||)
I left everything behind in hopes of being with you. At night, I left in secret, crossing the river of fog. The murky, black waters played in the moonlight. Underneath my clothes, I cradled the money I had saved up to buy my freedom, our new start in the world. As we left under the pitch black sky, we moved like mad marionettes - compelled to move in predetermined directions. Once we met, on that decaying bridge, we would vow to remain together in a natatory nuptial.
I’m constantly mesmerized by how striking I Do Not Love’s voice is. While he croons over dark and haunting synth lines, it sounds as if he is about to burst at the seams with heartbreak, pain, and anguish. They ooze like an atramentous baritone, murky, inky and black. These are dark pop dirges - lamentations and aspiring for something greater, something lost. The guitars jangle, the drum machine pounds, all while the pained prince bellows out intonations for the lost.
♪ File under: dark wave, dark pop, dirgewave
It was a private ceremony - only meant for a certain chosen eyes to witness. Hands would claw, clamor, and pry in hopes of possessing a memento of the momentous, horrific occasion. Pupils would dilate and shrink as eyes languidly adjusted to the growing darkness; they no longer needed to squint to distinguish shapes. There they observed and cried out, ripping their out hair ecstatically as they wailed. Some fell to the floor in a euphoric seizure while others piled on top of the fallen bodies in hopes of catching a glimpse. And there we were, silent and cocooned, committing an eternity to a diabolic sacrament just for two.
Wild Eyes perform a brand of doom pop: synths sinisterly undulate and pulsate while vocals slyly sing out impending doom. If it isn’t bombastic, energetic doom, it is slow impending catastrophe waiting to happen. Drum machines rattle and stutter, fading out like the sound of a vanishing pulse. Vapor-like vocals become ghostly yet robust, carrying you above a divine calamity. Teeth gnashingly good.
Get “Damir Doma” at bandcamp or amdiscs.
♪ File under: electronic, dark wave, doompop, thingsisomehowmissed