Some of the most tortuous dreams turn out to be inexplicably consistent. In these you’re not sure if you went willingly or if you just let yourself sink. Dreams whose distant and blurred shiftings can nevertheless touch what’s intimate, what’s the closest to you. Thanks to Time Lurker and Cepheide we’re having one of these, both fantasy and nightmare, with this split album. The night begins with the two cycles of the one-man band from Strasbourg (France), some feeling of limitless and endless vertigo preceding an unchained and unstoppable horde. The last cycle falls to their Parisian fellows in a darkness as quiet as ink curls spreading in water. Seemingly. Before turning into devastating groundswells.
