SEVEN STONE CYST
Length: 32:01 (min:secs)
Back in 1999 it was official, the digital utopian was about to end. Everything containing a computer in the world was going to implode at the turn of the millennium. Corporations spent millions trying to prevent silicon annihilation. But when the time came - NOTHING HAPPENED! Or so we thought... Quietly and without detection something did begin manifestation hidden deep within a microprocessor believed to be located somewhere in high Wales, but others talk about England. It lay in electrosleep and still unknown until 2001, when the first frightening reports from North London came to light.
And so came about the control of the five by the central processing unit TWENTYSIXFEET, who tell by proxy the real story of what happened in that doctrinarian binary hell. They believe by their own will that they impart these stories of dark desolate lands, where ambient diversity is orchestrated by electronic mistrust. Indeed they try to puncture the membrane of its soul with riffs full of colour and strength and with words full of spirit, but as visionary as it may seem it is all derivative of its providence. They continue to try, through eerie vocals and prosthetic rock jams, from insistent rhythms to electronic melancholy that blows out an atmosphere of progressiveness. They continue to try for that is all they can do.
The latest news is of a digital capsule emblazoned with the phrase "Two Hours of Passionless Tango" which is being widely distributed throughout this land, passed from hand to hand by learned youth. Initial reports are that the effects are devastating. It emits a sound that is pleasing yet harrowing, as if listening to a truth you don’t want to hear - yet you need to tell others to listen also. And you have to tell them…. before it is too late!
(6th October, 2006)