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  • Release Date 2014-04-28
  • Label Tirk Records
  • Catalog TIRK077
The Diaphanoids come down heavy interiorly re-disegned with an acid psychallucisergic album full of seventies' kosmische flavours fuzzed-out guitars and motorik rhythms.

1 ) "55th dimension nervous meltdown", ultra sci/fi images on the VHS of your heart, braindrops falling from the head, a wall of noise, cosmic razorblade guitars, reverberated elevation, spherical soundwaves reversing, bodies mutate, thoughts escape then return, looking for visions in a supermarket fried chicken.

2)"You can't shine if you don't burn", velvet drums, narcotic bass, guitar strings draw oblivion and bliss, any drug is candid, kiss the flame, silver missiles and nightingales, such a soulgasm.

3) "How can i distinguish sky from earth if they keep on changing their place?", motorik rokwrok, hallucinated guitars, acid ecstatic lava flow, roads widen, earth is soft, moon is inhuman, sun is balanced on a petal, colors change, the sky moved sideways.

4) "Alltheconstellationsouttherearen'tworthapinpointofliquidlightinyoureyes", a satellite of glittering oscillating keyboards, fluorescent dust, a crystal guitar, distant spiky lights, suspended on nothing, the milky way turns sour, shooting stars like vultures.

5) "LSME", the universe in and out of our bodies, still in the thin air, halleluwah-wah, a swarm of synthesizers, oblique guitars, relentless pumping beat and abrasive bass, howling imploding abstractions, holy is the longing for flying, holy is the cock so hysterical and hungry, crocodiles in my bathtub.

6) "The blackest sun", spatial cramps, fuzzed-out hiss, stuttering rhythms, astral bass, sidereal clangor, so far-so high surfing on NEU jagged waves, to beam or not to beam, a space odd!

7) "Our own private elsewhere", reality is for those who can't handle drugs, translucent guitars, phosphorescent bass, take a trip on Autobahn sick sick sick, carving miracles, Syd Barrett added us on Facebook, this universe doesn't really exist, come away with me.

8) "These nights wear three heads, five arms and ten legs", a sonic harassment, drums are random, bass is laconic and sinister, slashing duelling guitars, a vertigo with teeth, get a brainticket to Mind Central then queue up for the end of the world, that's where they severed the rest.

Ferocious. Masterful. Demented.
Chemically yours, The Diaphanoids.

Dear Mom and Dad,
I am going to join The Diaphanoids.
When you read this I will be far away.