Ordo Rosarius Equilibrio

First video from Tomas and Rose-Marie's new brand album: Songs 4 Hate & Devotion
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uPOLW9T80RI

Riccardo Sabetti interview (Spanish translation)

http://www.facela.es/?p=166

Don't Walk Away, In Silence (1956-1980)

Ya han pasado treinta años y año tras año ocurre lo mismo: panegíricos, llantos y revisiones. ¿Por qué resulta tan difícil dejarlo marchar? ¿Por qué sigue vagando como “alma muerta” por nuestro recuerdo?

Su legado ha sido exprimido hasta lo imposible. La caja Heart and soul lo publicaba TODO, discos enteros, temas sueltos, demos, directos…Rhino reeditaba sus discos con material en directo que, en realidad, no aportaba nada nuevo, diversas discográficas sacaban al mercado piratas con etiqueta de discos oficiales que habría sido mejor que permaneciesen en los cajones, Deborah Curtis escribía unas memorias que apestaban a ajuste de cuentas y Anton Corbijn hacía una hermosa película, Control, que a pesar de ser un excelente documento de su vida, se dejaba en el tintero todo lo negativo que emanaba su personalidad…

Todo el mundo conoce la historia, la película que vio ese día, el disco que escuchó, la decisión que tomó ese 18 de mayo…lo que nos es difícil de imaginar es cuál habría sido su siguiente paso en el terreno musical. Sus compañeros, tras un parcialmente fallido intento por mantener el sonido Joy Divison en Movement, se alejaban hacia otros terrenos envueltos en sintetizadores y finalmente se rendían a las listas con Blue Monday y años más tarde con Technique. Fue un paso inteligente y, aunque la necrofilia vende, quisieron dejar claro que New Order no eran Joy Division (ni falta que les hacía). Aún quedan nostálgicos que se rasgan las vestiduras clamando “Ian no habría permitido esto”, pero ellos qué saben por dónde habrían ido los tiros tras Closer. Los dos últimos esbozos como Joy Division (In a lonely place y Ceremony) ya se publican bajo el nuevo nombre y no nos dan pistas.

Ese día acabó una vida pero no una época. Manchester siguió adelante y nos proporcionó grandes bandas que los críticos decidieron denominar sonido Madchester, la discoteca The Hacienda puso en el punto de mira de los aficionados a los djs (como refleja de forma divertidísima Michael Winterbottom en 24 hours party people), y a principios de este nuevo siglo, infinidad de bandas de todo el mundo reconocen la influencia de Joy Division en su sonido. Su vida se extinguió pero su influencia sigue presente hoy en día.

Los que lo rodearon también fueron artífices de la existencia de Joy Division: Martin Hannett, Rob Gretton, Tony Wilson…y también los tres nos han dejado. Tal vez sea el momento de olvidarnos del hombre y concentrarnos de una vez exclusivamente en su música: Love will tear us apart, Atmosphere, Heart and Soul, Shadowplay…rara vez tan escaso material ha dado para tantas y tantas horas de escucha.

En Atmosphere nos pedía que no nos alejásemos en silencio. Él no lo hizo, dejó tras él un puñado de canciones que romperán el silencio durante generaciones y cada 18 de mayo (o de abril o de diciembre, ¿qué más da?) pondremos la aguja sobre el vinilo e Ian nos contará que desea encontrar a un guía que lo tome de la mano y poder sentir los placeres de un hombre normal…

Permitámosle de una vez descansar en paz

(You can also find this post in the webzine http://www.facela.es/)

Spiral69

great song...great album...great band

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hP7w0HoOQ0o&feature=related

La Cara Oscura de Flaming Lips

A finales del año pasado Flaming Lips publicaron una versión completa de Dark Side of the Moon de Pink Floyd. Este tipo de discos pueden ser a) una verdadera aberración, b) un nota por nota aburrido hasta el infinito (en cine sería la estupidez que hizo Gus van Sant con Psycho) o c) la interesante visión de un grupo que muestra su admiración hacia otro. Dentro de esta última opción se podrían encuadrar la versión de Beck del primer disco de The Velvet Underground o la que hizo Les Claypool de Animals de Pink Floyd. Tras tres escuchas del disco, he decidido que Flaming Lips han logrado entrar también en esta tercera opción.

Nunca he sido un fan de Flaming Lips y sí lo fui en su momento de Pink Floyd, así que, en principio, las cosas no pintaban bien para los de Oklahoma. Sin embargo me han conseguido cautivar desde el comienzo. No se trata aquí de analizar canción por canción lo que han hecho, eso es para críticos sesudos que les pagan por su inservible trabajo. Simplemente creo que sería gratificante para cualquiera (interesado o no en el trabajo tanto de Pink Floyd como en el de Flaming Lips) hacerse con el disco y sentarse a escucharlo sin ningún tipo de expectativas. Simplemente disfrutarlo.

Puntos a favor para darle una oportunidad: la curiosidad de oír a Peaches desgañitándose en The great gig in the sky y el impactante comienzo Speak to me/Breathe que te agarra al disco y ya no te suelta.

Puntos en contra: Ni Time ni Money son lo que podrían haber sido (y esto lo escribo contradiciéndome a mí mismo con respecto a las expectativas) y, desde mi punto de vista, la portada es horrenda (aunque para gustos, colores y ya sé que una portada no tiene nada que ver con lo que sale por los altavoces)

Así que sentaos, relajaos y dejaos llevar por la voz de Henry Rollins abriendo el disco con su “I’ve been mad for fucking years, absolutely years, been over the edge for yonks, been working me buns off for bands”

Spiral69

http://www.xtm.it/DettaglioEmergenti.aspx?ID=9681

Crítica al primer disco en solitario de Riccardo Sabetti, ex-bajista de Argine. Un trabajo excelente que cruza a The Cure (época Disintegration/Wish) con Nine Inch Nails y los últimos Spiritual Front. Está en italiano pero creo que es fácilmente comprensible. Un 10 sobre 10. En breve publicaré una entrevista con él en FA CE LA.

Absurd Prayer (1961)

I disdain God's suffering.
Men command sufficient pain.
I'll keep to my tomb
though the Messiah come.

Though He summon every corpse
to throng the final Throne,
one heap shall remain
immovable as stone.

The ruins of men and women
resume their hair and skin
and straightway to the altar-steps
in trembling fear they run.

They wallow in His Glory,
they scramble for his Hem.
These bodies rose from Paradise
but they kneel down in Doom.

Hyenas wait beyond the steps
I sight then from his hole.
Their appetites are whetted,
The feed on carrion soul.

(From Leonard Cohen's book The Spice-Box of Earth)

Top Ten (early)

Tomandole la palabra al personaje de Nick Hornby, Rob Gordon: "My desert-island, all-time, top ten most memorable Post-Punk records in alphabetical order"
Bauhaus - In the flat field (1980) (El Post-punk se maquilla ligeramente y sale el primer disco que los críticos calificarían de Gothic. En realidad Murphy, Ash y los hermanos Haskins asimilan sus influencias y logran un disco casi perfecto)
Birthday Party - The Mutiny Sessions (1983) (Cave y compañía empezaban a controlarse un poco)
Cure, The - Pornography (1982) (Para algunos lo más insoportable que hizo R. Smith, para mi su mejor momento)
Fall, The - Bend Sinister (1986) (MES se pone en plan oscuro)
Fall, The - Extricate (1990) (MES se pone en plan semi-accesible)
Gang of Four - Entertainment (1979) (La base de mucho de lo que se está haciendo ahora)
Jesus and Mary chain, The - Psychocandy (1985) (La primera vez que me atreví con este disco me dolió la cabeza. La segunda vez me abrió los ojos)
Joy Division - Unknown Pleasures (1979)/Closer (1980) (Lo cuento como uno y, si sólo tuviese que escoger un disco de esta mini-lista, serían estos dos. Rompedor, tenebroso, hiriente y sobre todo, triste, muy triste. El quinto elemento que lo cohesionó todo fue Martin Hannet, que merece un panteón aparte)
Wire - Pink Flag (1977) (Todavía había mucho punk en este disco, pero la perspectiva es ya otra...muy distinta...y ellos, muy distintos)
Wolfgang Press - Standing up straight (1986) (Los desconocidos para muchos. Unos perros verdes que hacen sonar la flauta y logran un disco inolvidable. También fue el único, lo demás es mejor dejarlo en los cajones de rebajas de tiendas en quiebra)

Sylvia Plath October 27th, 1932 - February 11th, 1963

Death & Co. (from "Ariel")

Two, of course there are two.
It seems perfectly natural now...
The one who never looks up, whose eyes are lidded
and balled, like Blake's,
who exhibits

The birthmakrs that are his trademark...
The scald scar of water,
the nude
verdigris of the condor.
I am red meat. His beak

claps sidewise: I am not his yet.
He tells me how badly I photograph.
He tells me how sweet
the babies look in their hospital
icebox, a simple

frill at the neck,
then the flutings of their Ionian
death-gowns,
then two little feet.
He does not smile or smoke.

The other does that,
his hair long and plausive.
Bastard,
masturbating a glitter,
he wants to be loved.

I do not stir.
The frost makes a flower,
the dew makes a star,
the dead bell, the dead bell.

Somebody's done for.

(November 14th, 1962)


Sylvia - Rest In Peace

Cop Shoot Cop

Banda injustamente olvidada

It only hurts when I breathe – Cop Shoot Cop

Was a time I would have cried
Those days have all gone by
You always walked a crooked line
And so did I

You read my thoughts, you knew my fears
Weren't as old as you appeared
But so much wiser than your years
And I was blind

If I mentioned love I take it back
I saw your heart and it was black
I finally found out what you lack
And that's a soul

You left a trail of rubber checks
Broken hearts and busted necks
What the fuck did I expect
I don't know

You can give your confession tomorrow
If you find a priest dumb enough to believe
Cos It only hurts when I breathe

Purge and binge, binge and purge
Gorged on speed and bitter words
Found ourselves on B and 3rd
One more time
Feast and fast, burn and crash
Couldn't seem to make it last
You stole my confidence and cash
But I will survive

You can give your confession tomorrow
If you find a priest dumb enough to believe
Cos It only hurts

Cos It only hurts when I breathe

Cos It only hurts

Cos It only hurts when I breathe

Tears and laughs, laughs and tears
Days are weeks and months are years
Up the on-ramp grinding gears
Away we go
Looking for a bar to burn
Waiting for the tide to turn
Some people never learn
And I should know

You can give your confession tomorrow
If you find a priest dumb enough to believe
And me I'll just beg steal and borrow
Because it only hurts when I breathe
It only hurts when I breathe

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/songs/?query=cop%20shoot%20cop

shattering

Hay días, como hoy, que son así de jodidos.....

Cenizas - El Columpio Asesino

Es la ceniza que sube de los pies
empapándome el corazón, me da de lleno,
es una bala de cañón.

Y tu mirada, vieja y cansada,
lo dice todo, no dice nada, algo murió,
algo murió, algo murió, algo murió ...

Al cerrar la puerta,
el frío rompe dentro de mí,
me está matando, me está matando.

Cuando cae la noche
el diablo baila sobre el tejado
taconeando, taconeando,
me está matando, me está matando.

Y tu mirada, vieja y cansada,
lo dice todo, no dice nada,
algo murió, algo murió.

Cuando el día se hace enemigo
el sol se niega a entrar por la ventana,
luz artificial en la oscuridad.

Sueños soñados que se congelan
en el aire sin hallar una voz,
es la ceniza, es la ceniza.

ossessione

la mia ossessione ieri & oggi & domani &...... a must-see to understand the sadness & madness of our life

To the greatest person I've ever met

No words could explain how I feel now, so here's an image we will share in some months...Schwester A.K: mein Herz ist Reisen jetzt mit dir in den Landschaften von Deutschland

neXus

Sublimes Spiritual Front

to my beloved Simone Salvatori, the only man whom I could fall in love for....come back one day to my country dude, I miss you & and your BEAUTIFUL music...ho bisogno del tuo nuovo album Roma Rotten Casino

Slave
I'm a slave to who gave a name to my body and form to my filthy soul
I'm a slave to the money that burn my hands and to the profit and fatigue
To the mortal breath that bends my back and to the sperm vibrates on my body
To the blade that will cut the sour fruit and to the blade that will cut my throat and chest

You have to abuse me
'Cause I could have been so
And I was never able to
You have to abuse my sex
And tight your slipknot around my white neck

I'm a slave to the mother of all pigs and to the father of all my oppressions
To the will that erases my regrets and to my childhood and my hidden fears
I'm a slave to the light that gives a face to my weakness and to my fallen reign
I'm slave to the salt and the wind that will burn my wheat and my leprosy

A Bastard Angel
It's embarrassing to see you wave that flag when you try to give yourself a navigated tone
You fix your damp collar a wring of blood to your dick
You'd like it but it will not work
You try to make me feel guilty for never never having had
An identity, a defined and conformed middle class sexuality

All the uniforms are shit
All the ideals are shit
Love and this nation have forced us
In a chain of sperm and blood

A bastard angel will take me away from the fat tummy of God
He will be the precise sniper that will center my weak chest
A bastard angel will lick my wound while your hand will leave me
While your hand will leave me bleeding on the floor

Walk around my smashed skull; walk around my disabled strength
I don't want to die so I can see you your flesh crumble, your chest open
The right road's the lie of intellectual and criminals; love won't give life to
The children we've never had; love won't give life to this job that will bury us
Dissidents, passionate lovers, and combed proud soldiers
Don't ask me more questions because I have no memory because I never will
A bastard angel will take me away from the fat tummy of God
He will be the precise sniper that will center my weak chest
A bastard angel will lick my wound while your hand will leave me
While your hand will leave me bleeding on the floor
You leave me bleeding
Bleeding on the floor

I Walk The (dead) Line
Through your body I’ll discover the drug
That will mortify my existence
Through the suffocation I implore
That blasphemy named liberty

I’m your kind, idiot, lover
And the cruel blind selfish tyrant
You dominate me with your luxury
You bow my revenge with your annoying love

I’m walking on the deadline
The one of our sacrifice!
The sacrifice of emptiness and greed

I’m walking on the deadline
The one of our sacrifice!
The sacrifice of thorns and sperm and vice

I owe you something my entire life
My wounded wet body, my useless charity
Among the illusions I’ll be the eternal one
Among the destroyers I’ll be the time

I owe you something for not been anything
For having been your sperm and money
Sign this deadline on my body
While I suck the nectar of the end

I’m walking on the deadline
The one of our sacrifice!
The sacrifice of emptiness and greed

I’m walking on the deadline
The one of our sacrifice!
The sacrifice of thorns and sperm and vice …

The Shining Circle
God will let me torn to pieces
By his faithful dogs
He will raise my will to the ground
My bones are mud where you will curve
The severe sign of your command

I betrayed my ungrateful nation
I betrayed my only friend
I stepped on that white light on your forehead
I nourished opium with my courage

We are bound by the same drug
We are crucified on the same deformed sacred ambition

In this circle I will close my name
In this circle I will force this love
In this circle I will clean your infection from faith

My death won't be more glorious than your
No one ever will my defeated swallowed
The bitter seed and dark profile of your perfection

What's the name of my saviour?
My knees will trumble while
I enter the kingdom of heaven
While I scatter my head with shit and justice
While you will substitute my first fear with the dogma
The road the road to devotion is the lobotomy lobotomy of faith

In this circle I will close my name
In this circle I will force this love
In this circle I will clean your infection from faith

My Kingdom For a Horse
Give me the sharpest blade
So I can gratify my heart and your flesh
I forced you to love me
I forced you to believe me
A certain lover
you hide a silver knot among my rags
And an endless road for this exanimate man
I don't want servants
no strong legionaries
Take my first born
My most precious jewels
My wisest advice

I could give you my head and my strongest weapons
But may I grant the ever worst will of mine
Just for this filthy Instant
I want it now

My kingdom for a horse my love
My kingdom for your last breath
This the last will of a man who lost
Who lost freedom and power
My kingdom for a horse my love
My kingdom for your last breath
This is the last will of a blind man
Who fought the most cruel god

I should know the streets I'm walking on
or the ones I never never walked
I would want to obey your orders for once
I'll the be the wicked one
When you'll ask for pity
I'll be the most ridiculous clown
When you will ask me for justice
Ask me how I can let my kingdom sink for a moment
for a moment in your smell
There's a man who tells his story
And I should tell you mine
I should feel ashamed for not having ever done It
I should lay down and flatten out the vague borders
And the doubts of my useless life
I'm too old for being being doubtful
My kingdom for a horse my love
My kingdom for your last breath
This the last will of a man who lost
Who lost freedom and power
My kingdom for a horse my love
My kingdom for your last breath
This is the last will of a blind man
Who fought the most cruel god

Jesus Died in Las Vegas
Do you think you'd love him all the same? Even if he'd lose everything faith Too you gave your blood and the rest of that ridiculous crown of all Your rags for just one dollar You will ask men to follow you and serve you to leave their lands and their fathers who will love you but cheaters and whores maybe they will follow you the same but they will wait for a reward richer than your word.

Jesus died in Las Vegas and here the lights have the have the taste of his blood pain and regret.
Jesus died in Las Vegas and he died with the arrogance of who feels loved and betrayed.

In a dim motel you betrayed your friends and married a bitch for few dollars.
A cigar one day wedding three nails are enough to be part of history if one accepts it and one believes in it someone will follow him and abandon flags and kings with sandals or a Cadillac, you will have his place but they will forget you and you don't know how easy is to substitute a god.

Jesus died in Las Vegas and here the lights have the have the taste of his blood pain and regret.
Jesus died in Las Vegas and he died with the arrogance of who feels loved and betrayed.

Nothing is more contagious than sin.

Cruisin
Be cruel with me and show me
The strength and the perfection
Of authority

Don’t let my heart become a victim
A victim and the executioner
Have the same perfect role

One inside the other
One on top of the other
The beast engraves his seal into my flesh
The angel stabs my chest with his golden arrows

I’m crawling on these streets until
You abuse my exhausted body
‘Til you make a sacrifice
Upon these violated doors

Your ivory seed enlivens our final carnal fight
And the conquest of this throne made of flesh and fascination

I’m slowly cruising until
Your last worst desire bends my back
Wait for the storm to submit
My proud filthy love

I’m slowly cruising until
Your last worst desire bends my back
Wait because the best
Memories die fast

Without any word be clear
Without your breathing skimming my neck
I know your dagger and I will follow it

No kiss of fire for who betrayed my Adonis
And I will throw myself to your feet
You’re playing dices my virginity
Will this be the way of expiation
And the reward of my only god

I’m crawling on these streets until
You abuse my exhausted body
‘Til you make a sacrifice
Upon these violated doors

Your ivory seed enlivens our final carnal fight
And the conquest of this throne made of flesh and fascination

I’m slowly cruising until
Your last worst desire bends my back
Wait for the storm to submit
My proud filthy love

I’m slowly cruising until
Your last worst desire bends my back
Wait because the best
Memories die fast

I’m slowly cruising until
Your last worst desire bends my back
Wait for the storm to submit
My proud filthy love

I’m slowly cruising until
Your last worst desire bends my back
Wait because the best
Memories die fast

Love Through Vaseline
Pretend to love my imperfection at least for a minute
Infect my dreams with your taste
You know how to enter in me
You know how to softly torture
You know how to torture my innocence
There's a falling bridge between my heart
and your upside down world

Let your saliva drip which I hold you tight
If only I had the capacity to reject my love
The crazy, the soldier, the weak and the heroes love
But not us my love
Your saliva runs slowly
Runs down on my body

I'll need a cruel master who will save my vicious soul
But a master I will hate or that maybe will save me
But I'll hate him save me... Come on
come on...
Come on inside me because this way you will save me
For a moment forget you love me
Push yourself push inside me
because this way way you will save me
For a moment forget you love me
Push yourself

I'm so disgusted by the victories
I never conquered
I feel sorry for the defeats
I am roughly headin' to
Love me all the same when I’ll sing to you
'bout vaseline and lead
look at me all the same when
I’ll be jester of violence and pity
I'll need a cruel master who will save my vicious soul
But a master I will hate or that maybe will save me
But I'll hate him save me... Come on
come on...
Come on inside me because this way you will save me
For a moment forget you love me
Push yourself push inside me
because this way way you will save me
For a moment forget you love me
Push yourself

Ragged Bed
You should let me rot
In this smelly ragged bed
It's not my will that I want back
I will count my father thousand steps
I will count my mother thousand lies

The marches of people fighting
The tragedies of emperors without crowns
I will never ask myself again
What's the meaning of believing in myself

Is there a reason to remain besides
My stray ideals of purification
Let me rot in this bed of crimes and sweat
Save from my empty nights of alcohol

And everytime your hands
Grasp my neck I feel saved like
Like the christ
Is this your courage?
Is this the courage?
How true is the luck of dyin'
Without changin'?
And everytime your hands
Grasp my neck I feel saved like
Like the christ
Is this your courage?
Is this the courage?
How true is the luck of dyin'
Without changin'?

And everytime your hands
Grasp my neck I feel saved like
Like the christ
Is this your courage?
Is this the courage?
How true is the luck of dyin'
Without changin'?


I know how useless is to ask you to spare me now
I know how useless is to believe in the bold
Fascination of my sexuality
But what nails inside?
Is the ecstasy of your lifeless body
The decadent shine of your lust
I ignore the sense the sense of perfection
The end is between our lips
While we deny love Its coronation
I want to embrace you
And forget the condemnation that god inflicted us

Have I ever been free?

And everytime your hands
Grasp my neck I feel saved like
Like the christ
Is this your courage?
Is this the courage?
How true is the luck of dyin'
Without changin'?
And everytime your hands
Grasp my neck I feel saved like
Like the christ
Is this your courage?
Is this the courage?
How true is the luck of dyin'
Without changin'?
And everytime your hands
Grasp my neck I feel saved like
Like the christ
Is this your courage?
Is this the courage?
How true is the luck of dyin'
Without changin'?

No Kisses On The Mouth
There are no streets for my heart
Nor voices can make my naked body shiver
But I need a slave
Who will stab me and a faithful dog
That will devour my body
Love me while I confided you my intentions
'Cos you know I will fail
Love my childish purity
'Cos you know I'd lick every sin your flesh

The limit of love is that
Of needin' always an accomplice

I've lil' in my pocket just some sand and some stupid truth
But enough to redeem your lack of style
And your vague sense of duty
My certainty falls while your saliva tastes like my sex
My tongue furrows your seals
While the night whispers our end

The limit of love is that
Of Needin' always an accomplice
(No kisses on the mouth)

Redemption Or Myself
I wrote in my exhausted body
the comedy of redemption and lies
I role that I played so well...
That of the loser and fake
No mothers talked to me kindly
No priest gave me consolation
What can your love offer to me?
What can my virtue give to me?

But no one paid me back
No one gave me my life back

How can continue my comedy
Without seein' me bleed on it
Adore the viles that adore us
Implore the gods that implore us
There isn't a hell without
Its own equilibrium
And a opera that doesn't kill his actor

But no one paid me back
No one gave me my life back

You deprived me of my conscience
And the word that will be action
And of the infinite sleep that will
Drag me through these seas
But I will run along these banks
That you traced for me

But no one paid me back
No one gave my life back

http://www.spiritualfront.com/

http://www.myspace.com/spiritualfront

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spiritual_Front

http://www.youtube.com/user/Gutemine666?gl=DE&hl=de

http://video.google.es/videosearch?hl=en&safe=off&client=firefox-a&channel=s&rls=org.mozilla:es-ES:official&hs=h0G&num=50&q=spiritual+front+youtube&um=1&ie=UTF-8&ei=xhw1S9q-LMKt4gbvu6H3Dg&sa=X&oi=video_result_group&ct=title&resnum=1&ved=0CBAQqwQwAA#

Exercise in Nostalgia

Era el año 1996 y, por casualidad, cayó en mis manos un disco recién salido al mercado de una banda totalmente desconocida para mi llamada Misery Loves Co.
Tengo que reconocer que lo que más me atrajo fue el nombre, muy "gloomy" en una época en la que yo aún escuchaba con bastante frecuencia grupos de Goth Rock. Aquel EP, parte en directo parte remezclas, se titulaba "Happy?" y poseía una de esas portadas que atraen si estás interesado en la música más cargada de tintes oscuros.
Busqué y descubrí que ya habían editado un largo sin título el año anterior. Lo compré por importación (caro, caro) y me sorprendió bastante su contenido (y de nuevo su portada).
Veamos, Misery Loves Co. consistía en 2 tipos suecos, Patrik Wiren (vocal) y Orjan Ornkloo (todo lo demás) que hacían una música que hasta ese momento sólo Ministry había comenzado a perfilar. Lo que actualmente se conoce como Industrial Metal, es decir, riffs de guitarra muy Death Metal mezclados con maquinaria (Drum Machines, capas y capas de Samplers etc). La voz de Wiren iba del susurro a través de filtros al gruñido tan típico del Metal de los 90, pasando por voces relativamente melódicas.
No se trataba de nada realmente novedoso porque Ministry ya lo había hecho en "Pslam 69" un par de años antes y Fear Factory sacaban ese mismo año 95 "Demanufacture" (su único álbum más o menos accesible).
Lo que me atrajo de Misery Loves Co. fue su forma de utilizar todo ese cajón de sastre de sonidos para crear unos temas depresivos, agobiantes más cercanos al Goth Rock que al Metal. Ministry lo intento ese año con "Filth Pig" y no llegaron a acertar del todo (salvo un tema impresionante, "The Fall", el resto es simplemente interesante o en ocasiones prescindible).
Misery Loves Co. condensaron su filosofía músical en el single irónicamente titulado "Happy?". Me atraparon con esta canción opresiva que seguí escuchando durante años y años hasta hoy, casi 15 años después.
El grupo tuvo un éxito moderado, básicamente underground y reducido al mundo del Metal (aunque sigo sin ser capaz de relacionarlos con ese estilo monótono y ruidoso). Ficharon por Earache y eso significa estar en el sello por antomasia del Industrial Metal. Pero ahí quedó la cosa. Publicaron un par de discos más (versión de The Cure incluída) pero la magia de aquel "Happy?" se había perdido.
Años después, una banda clásica del Goth Rock, Killing Joke, intentarían sonar como ellos sin proponérselo sentando en la batería a Dave Grohl para "Killing Joke 2003" y "Hossanas from the basements of hell" (ya sin Grohl). Tal vez una especie de involuntario cierre de círculo, pues muchas bandas, desde Nirvana a Ministry o Korn, han reconocido a Killing Joke como una influencia muy importante en su música.
Han pasado los años y nadie se acuerda ya de Misery Loves Co. pero de vez en cuando, en días como hoy, grises, fríos y deprimentes viene muy bien disfrutar una vez más de aquel infeliz "Happy?"....Bienvenidos al inverno/ Bienvenidos al infierno.

Happy? (Misery Loves Co. – 1995)

Always want what I haven't got
wanna be what I am not
you wish me somewhere I can't be seen
I am caught where I've never been
your feelings become mine for a while
as I realize your stronger than I
the freak show is about to begin
as I turn around and let you in
and let you in

I don't know what I wanna be
searching for someone, don't look at me
I just want what I haven't got
I just shoot and something dies
find it hard to explain
so how can you understand
I'm killing things with this razor blade
makin' sure a price gets paid
a price gets paid

I'm happy with my misery
please leave me be
there's nothing wrong with me, you see
I'm happy with my misery
I'm happy
I'm happy

though I try to kick you
out of this haze
been like this for weeks and days
what is now and what have I said
I really don't know
I really can't tell
creeping along these walls of hate
quiet, don't wanna complicate
saying to myself once more
forever never, never more
never more

I'm happy with my misery
please leave me be
there's nothing wrong with me, you see
I'm happy with my misery