from "Do the Sinister" liner notes, 2007
White Eyes through Black Veils
Things I love and need to carry with me are things that, first of all, I have to remember. I feel really bad when I'm not able anymore to link a voice to a face.
Trying here to be as honest as I can, what you will decide to be your past can be described as a whole Legend. And this Legend you're building up sometimes needs you to lie to yourself.
But don't call us liars. Don't point your inflexible and moral eyes at me. Little lies work as glue for different memories and taken as a fact we all come from our past. This past has a strong starting point.
I can't figure out how I could even start from my past without gathering my memories, without candid little lies that might fit perfectly even when they are just a breath in front of my guilt.
Oh my guilt.
Oh my.
Being not that accurate, giving a name or a year to your memory will come up as the perfect way to use them as little dominoes, a personal Legenda that may always remember to thank your spiritual assistances, a long and accurate job that spans a life. Maybe you will go before it. No reason to be sad or to harbour melancholic thoughts. I won't ever think of this as deceit.
This is the record heat that came to us this year and it's appropriate for that we will have to do. Always considering this as another starting point. Many platforms, my dear friend. Think this should be good enough.
Then i start with a list, a list of titles. This series of three:
Six musicians getting unknown- I saw seven horns rising up from the Sea when a Rooster sang for the Third time- When ground figures bless in black tutus
But now we ask you to go sinister!, No, much better: to Do the Sinister!
And then, about the next ones, will be Him to let us know what to do, He will tell.
signed
fm
"Deeply religious" a piece for The Quietus, never published, 2009
THE PRIEST THEY CALLED HIM
We started from this sentence.
That's what we first heard, Chiara Lee and I, when someone came up with the story of a Reverend Murphy. We were still in New York City, and it was quite a long ago.
Rev. Murphy never was a Father.
That's how his Legend began.
We could've been the ones to keep it on. Go on, they said.
We decided we needed at first to be baptized, so we summoned Vittorio and named him “Gvitron”, pretending this was the name of a biblical hero, and we asked him to perform this duty.
The three of us have different opinion about it. Of being christians.
But, going to start a new thing, a Legend of our own, we just felt we were right. And we talked about it in the heat.
You have to start from something, if your porpose is to leave a trace.
I still believe it.
The religious sense that pervades us all.
You're just afraid of dying, one day. And you feel the urge of tracking back your path.
Or, maybe better, you have to feel that somehow someone is going to do it for you.
To track down what you've done.
...AND HE TOLD US TO TURN TO THE SUN
“Come all you warriors and renowned nobles
Give ear unto my warlike theme.
No time for other Legends, it's awareness we do aim at.
A common religious sense pervades Us all,
against the heresy, the heresy that grows.”
Give ear unto my warlike theme.
No time for other Legends, it's awareness we do aim at.
A common religious sense pervades Us all,
against the heresy, the heresy that grows.”
Play with lullabies.
Play with numbers.
Build a Kabbalah of your own.
“You have to keep on loving the three if you still want to understand the twenty-seven.” is a phrase I use often.
As the Ol’ Fisherman says, when words are mostly sounds.
An unavailable memory, a youth, a salvation.
No truth in these words? No truth in these words?
He once told me: And as his voice fades from you, you slip down a shallow swale under that oak tree with a heart-shaped scar. You’ll carry them out to sea and let the waves take them away. They’ll take them away. But how can you forget. The echo won’t die. Will you forget? A canyon of saints. Let them divide.
See?
It's all about choice.
The word “heresy” comes from ancient Greek, and it means choice.
All this is about choice.
Never, never forget you have a choice.
And so let the light come in.
And just at the end turn to the Sun.
Only when you will be down as low as you can go.
A hateful foul.
A long song. Maybe a concept.
Oh going down...(saying it while laughing)
NEVER FORGET YOU HAVE A CHOICE
It's all about choice, swinging in those dark streets I got deep once in a while.
A sermon, a parable, a proverb.
The pain deserved by the whole human kind.
Writing phrases and music about heresy, a concept record about heresy.
It makes me think of the day I will try to breed: fellowship, not family.
A legion, down down stairs.
Apples and pairs.
Silly sounds as lullabies. A continous prayer.
Its power sometimes comes not from what you say but on how you say it.
I'm here trying to go down, as low as i can go.
Just at the end I will turn to the Sun.
The Light of the Day of the Lord(s).
This is not a path toward darkness. Not even a downward spiral.
We see it just as movements. Going down as long as we can go. It means choice.
Perhaps, heresy.
From there, the new point, you’ll be given the opportunity to turn to the Sun.
Still, He’s the one who will tell you to turn to the Sun.
WE NOW PRAY WITH TWO HANDS, WE NOW PRAY WITH TRUE ANGER
We miss something.
What if heresy, this whole album we recorded as a concept, is telling us the truth.
What about this whole Journey of ours, being baptized/ resisting Satan’s temptations/ the book of Revelations/ now the heresy - what are they for?
I see them now simply as movements. With no special meanings.
We got down, as low as we could.
There, right there, He told us to turn to the Sun.
