A world of kisses and desire, sometimes a world of loss and regret. ...on the other side, call it the opposite or not, amongst a million other bands and small stars, there are Bell Etage. The Mojo never really reaches the surface. It floats arround in the cellars and hidden floors. The music might be rhythmical and have a 1000 Volts of power, but something is broken about it.
The message is wrapped up in a veil, you see it's there but you can't be sure. "My house is crowded with a couple of strangers, when you need them as friends you don't care 'bout the danger, that you turn out to be the visitor." That is the first line of the Trumpet Song. So when you finally leave the house, for whatever reasons, you look at it differently, and you look at all the other things differently. Maybe you took a glance through the window from time to time, but when there's light inside you mostly see the reflections. However, the songs are made of the observations from out there. You might return one day to your house but the wilderness you will remember.
So the songs are the messengers that are sent to whereever with unclear orders, and when they are knocking at your door they look confused, like having lost pieces of their memory or something like this. They want to tell you what they have to say but in the same moment they don't want to. There is an aura of alarm to it, but the louder and the more flashing it gets the more the silence comes out. Like the darkness that begins to get clearer when an ambulance is driving on a country road at night. It is the silence opening up between all the drums, bass, cello, elecric guitars and voices.
It's all about sex, loneliness and silence. But mostly it's about the hope inside of that very ambulance truck. Read more on Last.fm. User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License; additional terms may apply..
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