 |
 На своей третьей полноформатной работе немецкие антифашисты, вегетарианцы и просто красавцы в очередной раз постарались запинать идеологически враждебную нечисть, при помощи материала с сильным агитационным началом. Составляющие стиля, как и раньше, выбраны строго и со вкусом: металкор, с вкраплением мелодик-дэта и небольшой долей трэша. Компоненты пусть банальны, но на их основе запросто можно сотворить крепкий, рвущий на лоскуты материал. За примерами оного далеко ходить не надо - достаточно просто послушать предыдущий альбом немцев.
И неизбежный результат сравнения моментально откидывает тень сомнения и неопределённости. При схожих компонентах на обоих альбомах мы имеем практически разный результат. Если “Whatever it May Take” штормил и шатал, бурлил энергетикой, метал искры, и мог заставить наушники пылать, то на “Antigone” мы слышим сплошной порядок, возведённый в абсолют. Жар и колючесть (вспоминаем один из вариантов обложки “Whatever”) предшественника тут обменены на атмосферность, плотность звука и строгость линий. Почти никакого намёка на истерию, никакой зашкаливающей злобы, лишь чёткое следование канонам стиля и успешные (это не похвала) попытки свалить агрессию на брэйкдауны, усмирив скорость. Тут всё правильно. Просто до тошноты правильно.
Но это всё запросто можно было бы отнести к положительным характеристикам или, на худой конец, просто вывести за скобки, если бы не абсолютная вторичность материала. Риффы пусть сочны и тяжелы, но блеклы и не оригинальны, в каче отсутствует индивидуальность, мелодика квелая, лирика просто тупая… Как ни крути, но на одной лишь идеологии, подкреплённой абы каким материалом и действительно (это стоит признать) качественным саундом, сегодня далеко не уедешь. И что самое обидное, в некоторых песнях всё же попадаются заманчивые мотивчики, но, пущенные …дцать раз по кругу в течении одной композиции, они полностью вырабатывают свой и без того небольшой потенциал, становясь частью одной большой блеклой массы. Так обстоит дело с более-менее вменяемыми “The Only Truth” и “Voice of the Voiceless”, так есть и с псевдо-атмосферной “Numbing the Pain”, кое-как раскрывающей свой суицидальный посыл.
В сухом остатке имеем: 1) рафинированную агрессивность, выглядящую столь же убедительно, как отмазы Чарльза Мэнсона в суде; 2) целую обойму абсолютно беззубых песен, годных только для слэма страшных во всех смыслах слова личностей, только-только вошедших в пубертат; 3) абсолютно ненужную тут атмосферность и, как следствие, крепкий сплав песен, полностью лишивший альбом резких скачков и перепадов (о чём, в данном случае, надо было бы молить самого Мартина Лютера Кинга); 4) отличные звук и сведение.
3:1 в пользу команды в коричневом, и подписанный группой акт о безоговорочной капитуляции за 2004-й год. Честно говоря, после такого “крутого поворота”, желание знакомиться с последующими альбомами Heaven Shall Burn уменьшилось в геометрической прогрессии. |
 |
( 7 )
Aspired from the middle of his brothers
Charged this suffering and oppression
One single voice became a storm
His words and melodies - the weapon they fear
Threw back the baseness - back from where it came
Nobody is chosen to suffer
Nobody is destined to rule
Gagged his mouth but not his songs, the songs we sing
Fettered his hands but not the words he wrote
These songs we'll sing!
"Silence and screams are the end of my song." - Victor Jara
3. The Only Truth
A generation raised in darkness
Controlled, polluted - fed with the truth
A truth that blinds their view
Their ways and fates decided - implanted sorrows kill their needs
A common way to happiness, but I never learned to sell myself
Poets became silent,
While clowns arose and burned the books again
No thinkers daring vision grew,
Where thieves ran free and crippled human dignity
In the noise of unimportance
And stupidity the sceptic's whispers went unheard
Be sure, this storm will not drown my voice
Be sure, my hands will sow the seeds of reason
I'll never be a minor, I'll never be a happy slave
May this cold sever my face
And my the pain weaken my fists
No inner strife will touch me
The only truth is in my heart
4. Architects Of The Apocalypse
Greed and addiction drowned their pity
Washed away their thoughts of compassion and regret
A world left wounded, slaved and raped
Your paradise is hell for your descendants
Cathedrals of justice in a kingdom of hypocrisy
Castles of self-righteousness built on graves
Masses kept in forlorn, nations laid to waste
The dynamo of northern golden age
Darkened our future, blinded by greed
Sold your fate to the highest price
I don't believe in you!
You are the enemy!
A rush into our doom, as if your God came down
And cures all failure
5. Voice Of The Voiceless
See them die!
They Die!
A rain of blood should cover our world
Stench and decay should be the only thing we sense
But hidden in the dark and erased from our heads
Barbarity and slaughter are everywhere
A contemptible ethic, a relict
For the weakest of the weak
For the lowest of the low
My voice for the voiceless
My fists for the innocent
On the edge of a new age this is still our dogma
No grave for millions - tortured creatures,
But a common grave for our morals
This slaughter - an ethic I deny
An archaic way of thinking, so monstrous and absurd
6. Numbing The Pain
Dreams torn to pieces, broken like glass
Hope faded away, withered like leaves
Not knowing is blessing, ignorance the only protection
Nothing is numbing my pain
The fragments of my faith
Became the blade in my hand
Just darkness my eyes see
Pushed me to the end of all dead-end-streets
A curse - cannot lie to myself
I'm doomed - cannot silence my heart
Fear is the tool, conformity our medicine
How can I smile as this age dies, like everybody else
Dancing around the fire, that burns this world
Cannot bend down, I would just break
I hate myself for playing their game
Parents poison their children, never teach them to question
If it only wasn't for this certainty in me
I am a giant in their tiny world
7. To Harvest The Storm
Risen from the ashes, the ashes of the dreams you burned
So many wars these eyes have seen
So many agonies my soul went through
I died with them so many years ago
Just in darkness my eyes see the world
There is nothing more to lose
Forlorn in desperation, the fruits of your power
A world of slaves and servants - the only aim to rule them all
Punishment to nonconformists, death and terror to the upright ones
Coups and interventions, nothing will be uncontrolled
My life against your reign
A final judgement will be given
You come with me, this is the end
A time will come for all of you
To harvest the storm
My blood will drown your flame of greed
The time has come for you:
To harvest the storm
No single tear, no single scream
A silent smile - the time is now
A moment of redemption
The time has come :
To harvest the storm
8. Rsandi Von (Outro)
9. Bleeding The Death
Deceived of all your dreams
Betrayed by all your leaders
This shall no place to be
This, a dead-end future
Take a walk through grey, concrete deserts
Apathetic faces, empty eyes - the only thing you will see
A whole country bleeding to death
One big illusion - bleeding to death
No young hands to built it up
Cities fall to ruin
Just old men left to mourn
Four decades of a life denied
Abused good will to exploit us
Brothers turned to victors
Fooled by ancient propaganda
A bottle - your illusion
Your home just like a colony
10. Tree Of Freedom
Kept away from daylight
Deprived from all the songs I loved
These walls may hold my body captive,
But my soul is attending every sunset
This is the hardest there was to walk,
But nothing I regret
Our death would only be the thing they're praing for,
Time won't force us to surrender,
Their crippled freedom is not the one we're longing for,
As all else failed we raised our fists and weapons,
Not born as soldiers, but driven to the end
These wounds will be like memories, enhancing my existence
And our scars shall be the seals of freedom
I know that time heals nothing
Never casting down my eyes before the tyrant's throne
I know that our screams will sound out to the world,
Our blood will be like water for the tree of freedom
These wounds will be like memories, enhancing my existence
These wounds will be like memories, cannot banish this idea
This idea will overcome all walls and fences
A young man's deeds became an old man's wisdom
11. The Dream Is Dead
One voice, one power, the people's will arose,
Slew the tyrant and burned his castles, brought down
A supreme blooded pestilence once more
Under the same dawn advocates of wealth and freedom spread their words like prophets do
Bring them down! Down to their knees! Down to this greed!
Fooling us again, while our screams not even silenced
This rage has been a weapon, but our hope will bring the doom
So many times I prayed:, so many times I died!
We burst the chains
And now we should be on our own, but the fear of tomorrow
Will drive you to their arms again
The golden age we're celebrating creeps out of the womb of the same old lie
A child of tyranny and hatred
A heaven for the chosen few
12. Deyjandi Von (Outro)