1. |
||||
MORTALLY BORING CONTEMPORARY HISTORY
Screamed aloud that I was not afraid, that I could never be afraid
And others screamed with me for solace
Distant bays they listened to the call of those who were in tune with all
Leaving the pain for worlds to come
Wildest winds blow... Your neon Eden lies dismantled
It's not down in any map, as above not below
In any map, true places never are
Menacing lines of black tomorrows over the horizon
Your Eden is stored somewhere in quarantine
Wildest winds blow...
|
||||
2. |
Anomalies on the moon
03:55
|
|||
ANOMALIES ON THE MOON
About the anomalies on the moon that won't make you sleep
Reflections cruise forward, forward let us range
Fears are wandering through light years
Such a long time to never change, backward as you move
The gods have gone away, but the sermons go on and on
About the anomalies on the moon: no one went there
But if someone did he wouldn't see god, he wouldn't see god
No one went there, but if someone did he wouldn't see god
They looked and looked at the bottom of a deep gravity well
We Earth men have a talent for ruin at the bottom of a deep well
|
||||
3. |
Best wishes
03:58
|
|||
BEST WISHES
I wish you rapture, I wish you turbulence
You get dead-on in the next world
All you have here: murky channels on TV, selling all but
What you need is an error, what you need now is an error
Truth is rarely a cure, so impure, so wrong
How to disappear? To never be bound, to never be found like
The progress of rivers to the ocean, who's wrong?
I wish you restless sleep. How to disappear? I wish you future thirst
Listen, this enter to your log: as humans die, so too their god. Listen
Waiting in the seas of seasons red, something made me wise and sad
Abandon the search for truth
|
||||
4. |
Café Peshawar
01:50
|
|||
(нет текстов)
|
||||
5. |
Slumber gate
03:54
|
|||
SLUMBER GATE
Half-asleep, don't live, don't dream
Unpack your luggage filled with steam
A timely caffeine, a boundary between
Bodies misnamed and useless words for unreal things
Inhale the gas of rotten clothes, unpack the vapour, distil your robe
Worthless names for visionary things
He who has never hoped, never sought, never got bored
He who has never hoped can never despair
A daily mortal spin, a border line unseen
Evolution forms electric slaves
Half-awake through the slumber gate
Surrounded by an immaterial faith
Collect your pet animals, chemicals, protocols and pretend it's fair
He who has never hoped, never sought
He who has never planned needed not the weatherman
He who has never hoped can never despair
|
||||
6. |
I was here a moment ago
04:10
|
|||
I WAS HERE A MOMENT AGO
A world transfiguring drug, now that wonders are past
Saints started dying before the snow
And like the snow they continued to fall
If we could sniff or swallow a world transfiguring drug
Sweat and sit you're tired, sleep and spend a few hours
Stop the clock, and if nothing changes, sleep again
Let these be the guidestone to a brand new age of reason
I was here a moment ago, only a moment ago
And you never, never even showed
I was here (never) only a moment ago
A moment ago I was here, a moment ago,
I never even showed
|
||||
7. |
None of them
03:16
|
|||
NONE OF THEM
And after all these watery pages...
How grand those hopes!
Oh timeless time of salad days, when I was green
Oh timeless time, so cold in blood
Why you deny what promised once?
Why did you turn my green to blunt?
Why you belie your own sons?
Demons, jackals, gorgons, fiends, the sad ones
Unsuited, missing, nameless lands, the lost ones
Once I've been one of them
Once I've been none of them
All bitches and panders, cops and thieves
None of them
Why you deny what promised once?
Why did you turn my green to blunt?
How grand those hopes...
|
||||
8. |
Lajka
00:39
|
|||
(нет текстов)
|
||||
9. |
Whose dogs
04:30
|
|||
WHOSE DOGS
I live not in myself
But I become portion of that around me
And high mountains are a feeling of a calling shape
I can hear, I can hear
I still hear the hum of humans
Mixed for the torture you planned for yourself
A stranded horde, whose dogs are you?
Tell me now, whose army ants are you?
They own the art of fucking all, they order to howl
Hurry up for one last mourn, just a minute more
Douse the louse now, to film the strip, to strip the film
The dust is on the shelf
What I've become? Remnants of you, a goldfish in a fountain
But the maggots are infected, the lake turned to a puddle
I can hear drawing near
A deadly abyss of a water meadow
Dig for the fortune, but exhales on the surface
Only emotional garbage, solid like rage
A sad freak show
They own the art of fucking you
They order to howl, they order to bow
Like standing water I can breed the reptiles of your mind
Whose dogs are you?
|
||||
10. |
An oneiric production
04:38
|
|||
AN ONEIRIC PRODUCTION
Quiet lords the view in a filtered red take
There's a little road entering the wood
Somebody is walking on it, as the camera follows
There's a man waiting in the trees
A weeping willow over his head and a truth in his pocket
One of them knows, one of them knows they will meet soon
Artificial rain on the main actors, artificial pain on their pale faces
And they still can't, in the void they still can't talk each other
There's a hidden note scrawled on the edge:
"Change all the lights" "Everything will be fixed with editing"
"Now all is blue" "Everything will be fixed"
There's no screenplay, no audience to hear
We don't know which of the two spoke, now all is blue
The film is burnt, who spoke was you
Let me talk to the director
|
Oblomov Bologna, Italy
Art rock with a mixed origin: Russia and Italy. Ilja and Zachar are both musicians and producers, and their audio-paintings are just one of the strange amenities you may find visiting Oblomovka.
Streaming and Download help
If you like Oblomov, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp