aRternative

Reflections of our world in the broken mirror of music

  • Take heed and bear witness to the wonders of music

combi.f*ckin.christ

Posted by Attila Korsós On 3:55 PM 0 comments

Well, this is already the third episode of this so far not quite terrifying wormhole ride, and I haven't yet shown you anything really weird or twisted so it's high time I opened up some darker doors.

This time, I would like to guide you back to a wednesday night, the 17th of March into the belly of one of the most professional party and concert places in Budapest, the A38 ship. One of the coolest, hardest and most insane groups performed an underground (or underwater?) black mass on that day there: Combichrist.



I can't remember how I got to know this most hellish of mainstream bands, but I do remember that a few weeks before I first heard about them, they were playing in Budapest. When I realised who they really are and that just a few weeks prevented me from being part of a thought-to-be-rare event, I was devastated. Since then, fate has compensated me well: last wednesday was the second time I saw them live, and I can assure you it's never ever enough of them.

Imagine a titanic factory filled with industrialised machine-monsters clanking, beating, whirring and shrieking in a predefined rhythm, moulding into a cacophony of rhythmic noise. They are huge, dangerous and frightening, but they can't hurt you if you know what to do. And that is exactly the key to success of Combichrist. They are harsh, aggressive and dark, but they are "safe" as far as the general public is concerned. Or at least that's what they think until they come to a concert.

Never have you seen anything so full of energy, so musically aggressive, yet so... "friendly". The band, under the leadership of the amazing and terrifying character of the singer Andy LaPlegua, explodes everytime on stage like a thousand nuclear warheads, never stopping for a second through the 90 minutes of a gig. Half-naked and tattooed, painted half black and drenched in sweat and water, shouting and smiling like an insane, picking apart the stage and throwing instruments at each other, these guys are zero percent normal. Their songs smash down upon the listener with a hundred tons of weight, crushing all resistance and making you dance like you never did before. Their lyrics and song titles are shocking, but within the boundaries of public taste, except for all the swearings in them. After 90 minutes of us dancing, jumping and shouting, the band decide to leave us. And there we stood, drenched in sweat and with an undeletable insane smile on our faces, wandering around like zombies, unable to recover from the shock of so gigantic an amount of energy. Everybody could use a Combichrist gig once a week.

This is my gallery of last year's Combichrist gig in Dürer-kert. And this and this and this are three of their best songs.

audiobalm

Posted by Attila Korsós On 11:57 AM 0 comments

Everything that is broken needs remedy. A vase has to be glued together. A cloth has to be sewn. Broken skin has to be bandaged. And broken hearts also need repair. With hearts however, restoration is not that easy. It differs from person to person. Some of them drink, some of them hide, some of them weep, some of them write. And some of them listen to music.


I wouldn't like to bore you to sleep by recounting the story of my past week (or rather past two months or even past one and a half year), may it be enough that my inner core has been shattered and needed repair. As in all times of need, I turned to music first, looking for concerts that would steer the ship of my mind away from the angry waters. By doing so, I transformed this week into a seemingly endless row of nights spent awake in smoke-laden places filled with people and music. The one I wish to tell you about right now was held on the 18. of March and had managed to calm the raging and self-destructive beast of my soul for an hour or two.

I learned about the event through a girl, one of the members of the band called Slamballet, who was a schoolmate of mine back in the times of splendor I spent in my high school. I was sort of stalking her band for a long while, but never ever managed to get to one of their gigs and this proved to be a perfect occasion. The venue was Treehugger Dan's Bookstore & Café at Lázár u. 16., owned and run along with its two brothershops by a very friendly and welcoming expat from Massachusetts, who's been living in Budapest for 19 years now.

Slamballet consisted of a guitarist-singer guy, a violinist-singer girl (my acquaintance), a singer girl, a bassist guy and a drummer guy. Their beginning of the music acted like a switch for me, disconnecting me from the outside world. As I was sitting on the soft sofa, the hands of music took me away to a place where only me and the stage existed. Organic soundscapes composed of the girls' voices, soft and natural sounds of the drums and cymbals hit by bare hands and the dynamic and energetic yet soft strokes of the guitar built up our surroundings. The smile could not be deleted from my face, the music was so carefree, independent and sincere, like a perfect world we all would like to live in. It was like an old friend, who you haven't seen for a long time and then suddenly you meet. You go to an old-fashioned café with wooden walls, and talk and talk and talk like there's no time. You tell all your worries, happy moments, highs and lows and she listens. You pour yourself out and she always replies. Her responses fill your soul's wounds and fractures one by one, till you are ready to live on and step into another day.

The music left me after an hour of thoughtless drifting with a final, warm hug, and I set out on the streets of my beloved city, my feet not touching the ground.

natural

Posted by Attila Korsós On 7:32 AM 0 comments

I wondered for long about what nightmarish torrent of sound should I unleash upon the dear readers in the first installment of this (wanting-to-be-)oh-so-strange musical diary of dreams, and I came to the conclusion that it would be wiser not to scare the audience away with an audio-abomination already at the beginning. While skipping through my compendium of musical journeys, I finally encountered the optimal choice for an appetizer. Being melodic and soft yet intriguing and melancholic, Kauan's Aava Tuulen Maa is truly a fine choice for a stepping-stone into the world of dark subcultural music.

I encountered this release during my work at kronosmortus.hu, and it has immediately drawn me in with its marvelous watercolor frontpiece. It depicts a landscape that evokes the very same range of feelings in the viewer as the songs themselves. An image is worth more than a thousand words as they say, so behold:


You're standing at the edge of a forest. The sun's pale yellow beams break through the trees' crowns and illuminate every single leaf on the forest floor. The air is filled with sounds: the rustling of leaves, the chatter of bushes and twigs, the whispers of the wind, the occassional cry of a lonely bird. Yet the world remains silent somehow. You take a step towards the heart of the wilderness and nature opens up before you. A carpet of grass comforts your feet, leaves and the thin fingers of the wind caress your bare arms, mossy stones watch your steps.
You walk slowly to the crest of the hill and sit down on a rock. Your rushing thoughts are calmed by the scent of the woods. You think about the things you have left behind and the journey that led you here. Train windows, laughing children, lonely nights, forgotten days and once important things flash through your mind. You let them slip out of your mind's grasp and slowly lie back down upon the leaf-covered ground.
Seconds and minutes pass like ripples on a river. Years can go by around you, still lying in the loving embrace of nature.

But suddenly, your eyes pop open. You're lying in your room, alone and the sky outside the windowpane has turned pitch black. You sit up and rub your eyes. You reach for a glass of water and then you press play on the cd player once again...

Gateway

Posted by Attila Korsós On 9:42 AM 0 comments

Greetings, my dearest Inexperienced Spiral Traveller and allow me to already beg your apologies for calling you inexperienced. However, the fragments of the maelstrom in my skull that will appear here week after week will unquestionably prove that the twisted world of music you don't hear on MTV or in the radio has immense diversity to it. You will probably encounter shocking, disgusting or wicked things or thoughts here, but the chances are just as high for you to stumble upon yet unknown manifestations of beauty, gentleness and solace. I will be happy if you would follow me down this rabbit hole and in exchange, I promise not to disclose more than you can endure.

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