Artist: w i n t e r q u i l t 愛が止ま
Title: Haunted House Vol I: Texas Boneyard
Keywords: electronic ambient black metal electronic happy hardcore haunted house lo-fi house psychedelic sample-based United Kingdom
Let’s skip all the details of the album’s special concept and go instantly into the sound of Deadman Flesh. It has a dark fishy sound to it, as if we had arrived into a late night club in which all the clubbers had been gone into the stomach of the deejay. Yep, that’s right: it sounds as if we had arrived at the party a bit too late to understand that all the dancing ravers had been used as munching material for the person still spinning beats at the deck. If you hear closely you can just about see some blood dangling from the deejays mouth to ring any potential alarm bells. Yet, it seems that the figure had quite enough to eat as it doesn’t seem to be interested in eating us for desert. We could just hop on to dance on the beats that this satisfied creature of the night is spinning, wiggling its bloated belly full of dead ravers inside & a fanatic look in its eyes from the newly generated powers of sheer clubbers sacrifices. Don’t worry if the dance floor is a bit lonely, but see it positively; now that all the others have been eaten there is more room for us to dance freely around in!
After that we go into the Texas Boneyard for the lonely after party. Here the lost confused souls of previously died ravers are floating over the creepy landscape. It’s a grim night, one of smokey low lying clouds covering the boneyard in a thick mist of mystery & having the odour of death draped all over it. Ghosts sing in choir as the vampire-ish deejay brings his set on the spot, for a on the spot delivery of more stale clubbing beats. Ones that roll subtle around in order to entertain the spirits that had been there for a long time & satisfy the new bunch whose bones are pooped out in freshly made shallow graves. We have nothing to fear it seems, feeling quite special as we dance on top of mouldy gravestones with dangerous glow sticks in our hands.
When w i n t e r q u i l t 愛が止ま (the music provider of the special night) started to spin a tune named ‘The Wretched And The Brutal’ it felt as if the lid was off the urn! This was the kind of club hit that we could all go mental on, wouldn’t it be that all dancers had been dead & we had been the only ones left to go manically insane with its presence… it didn’t harm the fun though, we just had to dance a little bit harder – as if we had been dancing for all the clubbers that couldn’t do this on their own account anymore. With manic repetition of a howling electric guitar on top of a bed of beats the party flourished as if the eaten dancers had been happy to possess us for a moment of nightly graveyard clubbing.
I guess that when the music took a turn into the ‘ slum’ we had been transported through ghostly powers through darkened alleyways in which tasty hobos had been napping the night away. It was clear that the deejay had been hungry for more & loved us so much that it wanted to keep us alive by feeding some midnight snack of human flesh and bones. The deity hummed in a wordless singing way it’s preys into a psychedelic trance all the way into its mouth. One by one they got the life sucked out of it, which was seemingly done in a voluntary way. It wasn’t scary, but felt more as if w i n t e r q u i l t 愛が止ま was doing them all a favour.
Fulfilled again we got to the abattoir in which the creator of the night with the expertise sound of four by four beats and taste of hauntology had us pimped up for what comes across as a grimy atmosphere , one that goes well with the feeling of having witnessed too much human sacrifices for one night. In the back we might hear a ambulance arriving at the club, while we stay here in the dead of the night doing some kind of low energy zombie dance. The slaughter house party really seems to have begun a new music style that had become quite literally an enigmatic experience. I wonder what it is that stops the music maker from slaughtering us? Might we not smell too nice for its taste or are we simply too friendly? After all it could be lonely sometimes if you are a deejay who kills off its own fans…
The last party anthem is ‘all gray’ in which more steady kicks get pumped out while atmospheric music decorated the repetition with what felt like the sound of sacrificial magic. A voice could be heard, either spelling out greyness as if it’s a love song for the deluded state between black and white; a common middle ground in which goths and the elderly could find some hail in colour wise. Secretly I heard the lyrics as ‘oh rain, oh rain, oh rain’ probably hoping that it would started to pour tears out of the sky – as after witnessing the murderous night like this one I felt that a shower provided by Mother Nature was clearly needed! What a night and what an honour to be alive enough to hear all these clubbing sounds of sheer death!