A Grave With No Name

The sadness already hovers around the name. And “A Grave With No Name”  is like that, airy, it doesn’t feel as if you could touch it but seems to be like fog. Through the overamplified guitars – hardly audible – we can hear a faint voice that sounds like defeat, like a whisper that wants to remind you of something long forgotten. The vocals remind me a lot of the music John Frusciante made when he just got back to life on his album “To record only water for ten days”, nearly broken but still standing.

This is music for the night, for solitude and for thoughts that might be too dark to be thought. This is beautiful.


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