aRternative

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.

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...