01 - Love, My Imaginary Blind Friend With The All Pervading Third Eye, Climbs Silently To Play With Stray Dogs And Wounded Kittens On Abandoned Rooftops (In The Shadowy City Of Decaying Concrete Jungles, Wrecked Doom Promises And Stark Naked Voyeurism - Where Unfathomed Geniuses And Mysterious Loners Roam The Smoke-Filled Streets Of The Red-Light District In The Dead Of Night To Escape Their Self-Inflicted Loneliness)
02 - In This Haunted City, The Cold Suffocating Darkness Goes On Forever And I Am All Alone Against The World (Sitting By The Open Window Amidst The Godforsaken Alleys Of The Old Central Bus Station And Quietly Observing God's Eternal Madness And The Devil's Inscrutable Wisdom)
03 - A Solitary Nightwalk Into The Unknown (Urban Exploration Through Desolate Back Streets, Soot And Negligence, Empty Parking Lots And Isolated Construction Sites, Secret Twilight Zones And Faintly-Lit Residential Areas, Nameless Alleyways Covered With Thick White Fog And Soft Dewdrops, The Silent Blue Sea That Awaits Me Patiently From Time Immemorial, Forbidden Romances That Take Place On Ramshackle Park Benches Under The Naked Moonlight, Mysterious Underground Tunnels And Lifeless Bourgeois Shopping Centers, Self-Educated Sages In Abstract Scapulars And Voluptuous Nuns In Black Leather Corsets And Seductive Lingerie, Unconsciously Enlightened Hustlers And Impoverished Urban Shamans, Brokenhearted Misanthropes And Cosmopolitan Refugees Who Orchestrate Their Invisible Lives At The Margins Of The Sleeping City, Schizoid Spinsters Who Feed Stray Pigeons And Caress Wild Jackals And Anonymous Sleepwalkers Like Myself Who Have Escaped The Unbearable Solitude Of Their Mundane Existence In Search Of The Sublime...)
04 - The Wet Stillness Of The Night Absorbs My Lifelong Escapism (Through Untouchable Landscapes Of Misleading Nocturnal Light Beams & Socially Learned Helplessness)
05 - The Eternally Darkling Nights Of A Nihilistic Sound Mystic (Channeling Savage Inspiration Inside An Abandoned Watchtower On The Fringes Of Reality)
06 - L'enfer, C'est Les Autres (My whole existence, I have been intently studying earthly life. In your books and music I have drunk fragrant wine, I have sung beautiful songs and played numerous instruments, I have hunted gazelles and monsters in dark forests, and have explored so many different trains of thought... Beauties as ethereal as clouds and mist, created by the magic of your poets and geniuses, have visited me in the dead of night, and have whispered in my ears alluring tales that have set my brain on fire. In your books, I have climbed to the peaks of The Himalayas and Mont Blanc, and from there I have seen the sun rise and have watched it at evening flood the sky, the ocean, and the mountain-tops with sad gold and crimson. I have watched from there the lightning flashing over my head and cleaving the storm-clouds. I have seen previously unvisited primeval jungles and forbidden forests, desolate fields and barren landscapes, the gloom and splendor of nature, virgin springs and breaking waterfalls, hidden caves in the wadi, haunted cities and forgotten ghost towns, heard wild howls and soft breezes of laughter, visited mysterious shrines, abandoned graveyards and secret hideaways for lovers. I have heard the wondrous singing of the sirens in the silence of the night, and the distant strains of the shepherds' pipes at sunrise; In my darkest dreams, I have even touched the bloody wings of sly devils who flew down to converse with me of life after death... In your books, I have flung myself into the bottomless pit, performed miracles and slain, burned towns and executed innocent witches, preached new philosophies, died and was resurrected... Again and again. Your books and music have given me almost infinite wisdom. All that the unresting thought and novel creativity of man has created in the ages is compressed into a small compass within my demonic brain. But I despise your worldly wisdom and the temporary blessings of this tragic world. It is all worthless, fleeting, illusory and deceptive - like a schizophrenic mirage or a Tibetan mandala. You may be proud, wise, charismatic and self-confident, but death shall nonetheless wipe you off the face of the earth as though you were no more than unconscious rats burrowing under the floor, and your bewildered successors, your allegedly splendiferous history, and your beloved immortal geniuses will burn or freeze together with the earthly globe) [Anton Chekhov, 1889; Wings of an Angel, 2011]
07 - In Memoriam Of Everybody And Everything I Have Ever Loved And Have Forever Lost: May You Rest In Peace Ad Infinitum, My Dear And Beloved (How Terrible It Is To Love Something That Death Can Touch...)
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Wings of an Angel es un artista envuelto en un halo de misterio; enigmático, quizá como todo verdadero artista, y que crea su obra desde al anonimato. Su concepción del arte va en dirección completamente opuesta a la de la popularidad o el éxito, no digamos ya los fines comerciales, algo que le repugna:
“…proclamo: dejen de vender el arte y de tratarlo como bienes comerciales. ¿Por qué lo hacen? En mi caso, quiero que mi arte llegue a todo el mundo … no soy un artista comercial y no estoy interesado en vender mi música, no tengo que romperme la cabeza con todas esas ridículas leyes de Copyright. Que, por cierto, son un insulto criminal a la creatividad.” (Intangible23)
Su obra no busca entretener sino una comunión espiritual y trascendental con el oyente. Su poesía sonora le habla siempre al espíritu del individuo, a su subconsciente mas profundo, recóndito y escondido. Y es que en la obra de Wings of an Angel, todos los caminos conducen al yo interior, el verdadero, mas allá de convenciones formales o sociales. En este “misticismo postmoderno”, como el mismo lo define, todo termina cayendo por los abismos infinitos del alma.
En esta ocasión lleva al extremo su pasión y predilección por la oscuridad, para aplicarla al sonido; prescinde totalmente del uso de voces (spoken word), referencias Hip-Hop, instrumentos sampleados o mezclas con elementos de música tradicional como ha sólido hacer, de manera magistral, en trabajos anteriores, como por ejemplo en el espectacular (“Requiem For An Anonymous Genius (The Breath Of Life, Carnal Annihilation And Miraculous Resurrection Of The Job Of Art)”).
En este ultimo trabajo usa únicamente drones y sonidos abstractos que generan atmósferas realmente oscuras, intensas y profundas: “Diría que el sonido, en su más pura ausencia de forma, es probablemente la expresión más espiritual de lo divino…” (Intangible23)
En “In my darkest dream”, publicada de nuevo por el netlabel paralucid, Wings of an Angel nos invita a un viaje por sus sueños mas oscuros, que a este nivel son quizá iguales a los tuyos y los míos.
Estos sueños, por los textos que acompañan cada pista, tienen como escenario una ciudad vacía; son recorridos nocturnos por calles recónditas, zonas aisladas, infraestructuras semiabandonadas de ciudades decadentes por cuyas grietas y fallas también se filtra el subconsciente colectivo. En una oscuridad rodeada de lagrimas, con la luz de una tenue luna, son paseos en los que escapar de una soledad elegida, autoimpuesta pero también insoportable; en busca de lo sublime, el infinito trascendental.
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Ничего себе! Послушаю, отпишусь. Если конечно жив останусь.
Отличный альбом. Не на каждый день и тем более не для дневного прослушивания, но зацепил. Эдакий эксурс по глубинам собственного разума. В общем очень доволен. Выложившему огромная благодарность. Раньше не понимал амбиент, теперь же я его фанат.
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По музыке: очень неплохой транс, слушать строго не днем, не слишком много раз. Вечерком самое оно.
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Best Ambient Stuff I ever listened to!!!
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What an amazing obscurity ... Visual so well as musical ... Brilliant!!!
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"Massive ambient/dark ambient album!"
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"Оч. хороший альбом, цепляет однозначно."
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יפה העיצוב, לאט לאט גם העיצובים שלך נעשים אפלים יותר ויותר
אני אוהב לדמיין את השם הזה, "בחלומותיי האפלים ביותר", זה מזכיר את הפגישות הליליות שלנו
מכייון שאתה מתחבר לצד המלנכולי/גרוטסקי/הומוריסטי יותר מלצדדים אחרים, אז יותר קל לך להזדהות עם השחור לבן
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"This album is a masterpiece of Dark Poetry"
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"I can so relate to the title of this. I dive into Heaven and Hell in my dreams,... And with how vivid my dreams are, I do indeed feel like they are a diary!"
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"Послушал тут вернее попытался послушать амбиент проект под названием Wings of an Angel - In My Darkest Dreams (2012), вообще музыкально даркамбиент как даркамбииент, местами гудит, местами шумит, довольно прямолинейно все , я когдато сам подобое делал на компе+гитара и басуха.
Привлекло меня в проджекте иное, название песен вот пример-Love, My Imaginary Blind Friend With The All Pervading Third Eye, Climbs Silently To Play With Stray Dogs And Wounded Kittens On Abandoned Rooftops (In The Shadowy City Of Decaying Concrete Jungles, Wrecked Doom Promises And Stark Naked Voyeurism - Where Unfathomed Genuises And Mysterious Loners Roam The Smoke-Filled Streets Of The Red-Light District In The Dead Of Night To Escape Their Self-Inflicted Loneliness) и точто одна композиция идет 135!!!! мать ее минут. Не осилил. Собсна и так был ясно что музик будет обычным, ибо названия треков и длинна-выпендреж"
Fantastically versatile, uniquely fascinating and all-around exciting avant-garde music that reflects genuine outsider art aesthetics at its finest. Very recommended! Wings Of An Angel
Extraordinary melodic ambient opus, with strong spiritual undertones. gut-wrenching pads shimmer across an emotional landscape of lost dreams and unreachable memories. masterpiece of timeless music. Wings Of An Angel
Unique intellectual experience in sound, with deep meanings hidden within. An axiom that should be argued with; Is art a means or an end in itself? l'art pour l'art dystopian nightmares in Technicolor Wings Of An Angel
supported by 112 fans who also own “In My Darkest Dreams (night diary of a poète maudit in earthly exile)”
This album makes you feel like you're inside an old computer that is on it's last legs. Everything is glitchy, aggressive, and decaying around you. There are only a few moments where it feels something is still functioning and intact, only to be followed by more sounds of disrepair. Truly a special experience. icu8some2
