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15 июня 19:25
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        Еще одна запись с vocal-oriented музыкой. Пару строчек уже писал про этих американцев, но их новый альбом настолько хорош в своем жанре, что можно и повториться. Не каждый год выходит такая бомба. 
        Rishloo - прог-рок, замешанный на альтернативе. Музыкальная часть в целом похожа на такие группы как Indukti, A Perfect Circle, Lunatic Soul, Tool, Anathema, Crippeled Black Phoenix (группа барабанщика Electric Wizard), Wolverine, Riverside, Dredg, Division by Zero, Muse, Hurt и т.д. Воздушный, теплый и мягкий звук, с техничными проговыми отступлениями.
        Главная особенность группы - отличный чистый вокал. Ни у каких Queen или Muse никогда не было такого вокалера как Эндрю.
        Тексты песен - романтические, и бредовые в лучших стоунерских традициях.
        Выкладываю несколько песен, последняя лучшая.

        Rishloo - Scissorlips        

 Where are you?
I'm lost upon this boulevard
and I'm afraid this plastic mask made room enough for all of us

now Scissorlips has come to grips while chewing paper fingertips
that boulevards made boulevards of boulevards in endless strips
sing your lullaby
sing, sing, sing

I want hear it from your lips-what's it worth shining for?
nevermind your thirst, nevermind the curses you utter vacantly
I can hear them scream from below, I still hear them screaming below
all we are is all we are, transcendental animals

where are you?
I'm high above this boulevard
I left behind this passive mask to prove to us it's not enough

now Scissorlips throws Scissorfits 'til bleeding's what the kissing gets
to fork the tongues of old and young, forever speaking opposites

and...
sing me a lullaby
sing, sing, sing
I want hear it from your lips-what's it worth shining for?
nevermind your thirst, nevermind the curses you utter vacantly
I can hear them scream from below, I still hear them screaming below
all we are is all we are, transcendental animals
all we are is all we are, transcendental animals

trying to dig up the love - you call this love?

for the love of loss, we find
for the love of joy, we cry
for the love growth, we sever
for the love of now, we never
for the love of peace, we kill
for the love of wealth, we steal
for the love of difference, confine
for the love of unity, divide
for the love of love, we hate

who wouldn't want to disappear?
but I'm still here, I am still here
having come out the other side wearing horrors that climb from our soul
and I am still here, I am still here
falling facedown into the light, wholly naked I cling to these roots
and I am still here, I am still here




      Rishloo - Diamond Eyes

 We are not machines
we are not machines programmed, encoded
we are so much more, we are so much more

oh the lights
burning like fireflies caught in a web
electricity hums in our heads
we're overwhelmingly fearless

when diamond eyes light up the sky, I promise you that we can change the world
when diamond eyes light up the sky, I promise you that we can change...

we are not your routines
we are not your routines despite what you've told us
we are all one, we are all one...

...when lights like freeways burning mirrors and melting skylines haunt your door
you should swing to connect, swing to connect the cord
color, I see the rhythm in waves and onward still
color, I see the rhythm in waves, the white and red, the red and white, forever we'll know
in and of itself, nothing is whole
here at the end of it all I still see...




       Rishloo - Keyhole In The Sky

 The high road is always a balance beam chipping away our ankles, and I think it's high time we embraced the visual
on my way home I saw a keyhole in the sky and I tossed around my reasons for the cost

divide and dissolve the seams that weave deep within my head
we're losing light, and in this despair I'm finally aware that I am not one to learn so fast

straining across this great expanse where the weight of the world rests, and the air is thick with crushing emptiness
if only I could lift these feet up from the ground I'd circle 'round the world I know, I know...

...we, like marionettes off our strings fling limbs at our passions and hope to connect with impossible dreams
it's holding on when nothing feels right, it's the final, identical, severed umbilical breath from a tightening chest as we're holding on




       Rishloo - Systematomatic

 Hey you, I've seen you here before
in your eyes, prizmatic sight on and on as I defy
denials, back from the broken glass
sapphire visions and favored derisions with spiders on your mind shaking fists full of string as I

tie me up in knots while contradictory impulse lusts
the dreaming loom is twisted and confused
the stories on the spools will weave us back into one

and here we find ourselves again
tightrope decisions and blood-colored medicine a million miles from eye-to-eye
it feels much as it did before biting the tails in self-made betrayals
forever repeating this deceit, so who cares if I...

...while spinning I spun you a web
while spinning I spun you,
stammering words in a daze, seemingly starry-eyed followers mumbling praise
and all of the world is a stage, fleetingly these marionettes dance straight to their graves
with every desire on a string the future hangs perilously
it's the start of the tie that will bind and the last fraying strand

spinning on the dreaming loom a web of lies and tangled truths
with every knot that comes undone, we weave ourselves back into one





       Rishloo - Downhill

 I'm leavin' to walk the road inside my head
with cord in hand and powder breath I stand and wave goodbye
goodbye...

the systematomatic thinks, while buying blood on Broadway street where the old messiahs go
that pulsing through the atmosphere are answers to the questions you should know
don't let it go, or it's all downhill from here

examples of the afterlife responding visions half the time and the other vertigo
spun off the Earth a thousand times and caught the wind that purifies the soul
you should know, it's all downhill from here

lost out here adrift in lights, it's wonderous
weightless in clouds of colors the world will never see
and I am a figment of reality

wrapped in the shroud of endless night I scream aloud
but no one hears, so I tell my stories to satellites
and I am lost inside a memory

the pattern picks the pockets of the palindrome
back to front the loss remains the same
and it beckons to the East to give the West its eyes
while the oscillating rhythm marks its bones
to the young it gives a vision of the dead and gone
while the old recieve a passion to survive
and the pattern picks the pockets of the palindrome
before the oscillating rhythm takes to flight...




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