Instantly a sensation of other worlds with a spacious, subtle atmosphere. The dawn of creation is upon us with The First Son, as his glimmering light pervades all that is sprouting into life around. A strange, primeval presence exists herein and all its profundity. With rumbles of thunderstorms in the distant mountains, that arise from the clashes of moving land masses. The population of flora and fauna begin to commence and develop. Then, there is another pause in the track and it returns afresh almost, with remnants of its former self flapping in the first winds of the first place in time and space. The first intimation of anthropomorphism, subjectivity vs. objectivity. The egg of consciousness hatching after another pause for breath in the machinations of planetary creation.
Abraxas the father of it all. Αβρασαξ the dual essence of 'good' and 'evil', the duality that incorporates and assimilates chaos as part of its essentia and venenum. A suitably poignant track with the full weight of meaning magically encapsulated in the wonderful soundscape. The primal urge, the demiurge. The fluctuation of the will to survive. This is where is takes on more than cosmic proportions and implications, but to the edge of eternity. I am a heretic, so I can take this all on board quite happily and rejoice that I am not alone in the world. It makes the sufferance just that bit easier. Again, a fascinating use of silence and rebuilding. Cyclical, spiracular gyres of existence blossoming forth and being fruitful, though not necessarily fulfilling.
The third track brings to mind, that eternally assailed victim of circumstance. The one rebel angel who fell to earth and was bound, as Prometheus. Why? For telling things how they were and I live in a world where honesty is still rarely appreciated, even after all the aeons that have passed us all. The light-bringer strikes again, and again, until the message gets through, though only until the morons have left him be and stop trying to manipulate his eternal power for their own comparatively pitiful ends. Let them sell their souls for coin if they want, they can do that without any form of celestial assistance. All they have to do is turn on the TV and already their spirits are sucked into the maelstrom of human rubbish, whirling chaotically around their heads, delving into their subconscious desire to be famous and rich. Let them eat their brioche and have done with it, let them rot in the earthly paradise they create for themselves. Just spare me the mundanity of it all, is what I pray for sometimes. Crosses sometimes borne with fortitude and devotion to the true causality of the universe and what little we really understand of it.
The third son, the one who survived and founded our current dilemma as a species on a planet and no, I'm not vouchsafing the existence of extraterrestrials, just leaving the debate open for discussion at worst. Anyway, boys will be boys, and testosterone leads to many an unecessary conflict, from the inanity of sibling rivalry to the extent of obliterating whole nation states with machines of war based on the decisions of hormonal males. Great! That will help me sleep soundly in bed at night. It was happening then, and is still persisting, though where it will end no one knows, but I sense oblivion. Although, now I am falling prone to subjectivity!
Overall, a fantastic first album from The 17 sons of Abraxas (still one of my favourite album covers, Santana if you don't know it) and one that has provoked me into rattling on, instead of concentrating on describing the music. But transcendence is a key to the success of good music, as I've said similarly before. I felt thus motivated, is that a subliminal urge encouraged by this wonderfully evocative music. It is, as a whole, a wonderful selection of soundscaping, very ambient and deeper than you can possibly imagine. Very nice work indeed.
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