There’s a back-story to the word Valkyrie, the meaning of the word, the world it comes from (if you follow that link you also find awesome on-it music blog that informs the back-story of Curxes). Before the back-story, it’s the word of Valkyrie that you’re congregated here to apprehend, and it’s the word of Valkyrie that Curxes, as musicians, have spent time on, composed, they present their new single this month upon the internet and we, as listeners, are spending time thereupon, composed, we carefully tune in.
However, carefully tuning in is not the apt description for any kind of listening process that relates to these genes of music, for this song, I mean. This is hardcore electro. This is so full of energy. The beats are big, the instruments are loud. The girl sings good, and with gusto. It all tunes you in, let alone your carefulness.
I mean that as much as possible. For a listener like myself, this song is the kind of experience that transports me at the speed of hurricane gusts in the direction of strong metaphor, array of figurative scenarios, explosion of feeling, dreams, exhilarations of mental state. Indeed, I have had to force my fingers and my head to construct a really coherent introduction here. I’ve wrenched my imagination out of its delerium and forced it through filter paper, before my bedtime sleep, crunched it down into coherence, comprehendable construction, three paragraphs of solid eye-contact. Something of the song allows me that challenge, something of its own solid eye-contact, something of its own clear cut comprehension. The girl beats and belts her biceps around my own throat and squeezes, the band bind upon my legs and squeezes. The music itself infiltrates my head and I’m yet to see it emerge from anything other than the breathes I steal in between the lyrics, in between the breaks, the fills, the keys, the soaring synthesiser synthesising something absurdly real and electro rock-n-roll in my heavy eyelids.
Let’s let go and get giddy: I’m falling through air at 103 mph and veering around corners till suddenly I’m standing on the corner of the motorway and I’m punching a policeman, he’s telling me be more inconspicuous, ordering me to backtrack sharpish, backtrack to whatever pub I came from. I eventually obey, but make sure to stamp my hiking boots as loud as possible on the old broken tarmac. Later, gymnasts enter the pub and I’m going over to them with a good mind to tell them what’s what, kiss their heads and wish them well, before initiating a kickfight. I’m kicking their hands, they’re kicking my head, I pass out. I wake up planted as a 50 ft high painting on the train platform, stopping the suits from boarding their train home, they relate me to that guy they just saw outside on the city square, that guy with the camera lens so long they couldn’t walk past. Indeed, one suit mumbles how he couldn’t walk past the cameraman without giving a password. The password he reports is all my pain, in capital letters. In fact, I even hear him thinking how I look like the capital letter P; a horrible P painting. I am the capital P and I’m inanimate for all they care.
I’m a creature waiting to teach you a different game.
These lyrics, some of the few I catch from the swirling weird shining dark distorted rainbow water of crashing words, they’re plucked hard out of a low heavy heart, the depths of whole and healthy diaphragm, out of the high weightless head, but mostly from the steady weighting of sturdy feet on the ground and the solid eye-contacts by whom they are dictated.
I’m excited, I’m a bit terrified. The feeling of being, navigating, riding, being on waves, with the sound of a wild wild world inside, floating, fighting but altogether feeling utterly onwards, eyes dead set forward, with a pipe wedged in my mouth. This band’s release is something to apprehend later this August, my feelings are here to be shared, so share them!
catch your breathe first probably though