• The Gasman - The Grand Electric Palace Of Variety

    Reviewed by Jeremy Chick (subba-culcha.com)

    <b> The Gasman </b> - The Grand Electric Palace Of Variety

    The lights in my room are fading. The candles surrounding me flicker to a halt. The sound of something rustling outside breaks the eerie calm and a gush of wind extinguishes any chance of hope breaking through the electric blue calm of the night. These evenings are electric. I feel the presence of something upon the horizon, my door is shut and the darkness of the room begins to play tricks on my eyes. I see shadows darting across the normally still ceiling. The burning flashes of car lights sweeping by the autumn roadside cause me to spasm. The shadows that lay beside my possessions start to exude their own lives, and with those come stories. Told from father to son and mother to daughter, through the generations that graced these once peaceful hills and valleys. Stories written to scare children into giving up their hopes and dreams in return for the stability and appreciation of everything around them. Things that have been made out of the most desperate times, and are the only standing testimonies to the hardships that they rose from. As the floorboards creek I am awoken from my day dream suddenly, and left covered in the coldest of sweats with my eyes shooting from side to side, twitching amongst the nerves. My walkman’s volume is on full in an attempt to block any chances of fear being able to creep silently and unnoticed into my ears and scare my soul into silence. Because within silence there comes the realisation of how alone we are, the hollowness surrounds us becomes darker and we lose all contact with anything or anyone. We are alone. I am alone.

    It all begins with the painfully slow build up of strings, the sort that usher you through the tunnel, up towards the whitest and purest of lights. The sort that turns the flesh surrounding your fingers into a magnificent shade of red. The same shade of red that a thousand burning bodies create. It’s also the same shade of red that the clouds turn into with every rising gush of smoke bellowing from the lifeless mound. This is the colour of fear creeping unbeknown to us all, but it’s the electric blue that you really should be scared of. That’s the colour that surrounds us when we are totally unguarded, and that’s the fear that drives us in life, and ultimately destroys us. It’s a cruel, cruel turn of events that quickly lead into something unashamedly horrific. We can never understand, and nor will we, the sheer quantity of electric blue that passes alongside us with every passing moment. But it’s the knowledge that there’s something out there, greater than us all, that keeps us on the same track as the fear that surges by us every second of every minute of every hour of every day of our lives. This album is the fear, the redemption, and the saving of us all… But I could never hope to comprehend what spark of inspiration could’ve created something so divine, and for that I’m grateful to live amongst the mystery of us everything.

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