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OPIUM WARLORDS


 OPIUM WARLORDS 



“Nembutal”

By OctopI Mills

Albert Witchfinder of REVEREND BIZARRE fame has returned; and at the end of an age. It looks like this is the fifth album from OPIUM WARLORDS and Albert thinks it might be the "best album I have produced so far".

The first song is a crawler on the walls and floor and stretches out into the 19 minute realm; a place only possible and reserved for the most and best traveled masters of the trek and byways. The ride is a pilgrimage for sure for the man free of time and it is certainly on the listener's sand glass, testing the welcome mat which is as worn and tattered as the foot and ear alike. "A Heavy Heart" is what the thing calls itself and one’s appendages can be made to fall asleep in the leaded chamber it becomes after awhile. The next number doesn't quite reach out into the extensions of time and space as the last but it doesn't get you in any hurry either, making me nearly see an old, old man dragging something out for long intervals- some encumbering object that is hard to man and most be grappled with to be understood, and it is nearly sure that whatever it is it's possessor will suffer from it and be let down. It is like a grappling match between two old thought forms that might be one, struggling against some bastard tide that shouldn't be; like being trapped in a really heavy coat with all the circulation cut off to your appendages. As it unfurls, so it like a mold grows. Chairs are no longer chairs but oak dressers one cannot move alone...the weight becomes so heavy there is an entropy as one is trapped under a bench press involving a set of chest of drawers and without a spotter one is caught and mashed. One is merely an insect smeared on a floor as the sensation becomes crushing and is outright like being crushed by a very slow stone wheel.

THe next songs number four and curiously aren't as long and this is nearly a conspiracy. "Destroyer of Filth'' rings one out like the ringer used in nightmares as a Puritan type of voice carries out a sentence of long buggery. "Sarah Was Only 19 Years Old" burns like a hot coal through the floor and wears on one like a drip eventually carving a hole in the mind of a statue of Faunus or Bacchus. Its bizarre narration tells a tale that warps the wooden gates of your mind and one will need a carpenter after it has done it's way with your sense of home. There is enough time after the song "Perspiring Princess" to file a lawsuit or plan a funeral for a relative and it will not be for the hasty, no. There is time here that unravels in ways that are set up like a decomposition sets up, and this cannot be overlooked.

Oh, have I forgotten "Solar Anus" as a song? Well, my my. It knocks five more minutes down in weirdness that opens like a man passing the sun out his arse as a mere stool. Witchfinder weirds around with his mouth like a man who has clearly lost his mind, see for yourself. "Early in the Morning the Body of the Girl was Found" is the sort of friend that poisons your drink with something hallucinogenic for fun's sake without expectation of material gain. By the time "Xandu" closes the affair you are sure it will stay longer than what it originally stated and 15 minutes becomes a day, becomes a year. This is the wolf spider of an album that should be experienced to be believed.