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Forthcoming Humanity (2020)

by Yovel

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soggy_turnips
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soggy_turnips that goat has some nice curly horns. good goat. nice horns.
red_fenian_punk
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red_fenian_punk Absolutely brilliant album. I just listened to it all the way through and had to get myself a copy! Love to see left-wing politics in this scene! The far right have hijacked way too long and it put off the genre for a long time. Now I see the push-back against this filth, I'm loving what I hear. Apart from being politically decent you blow these godawful NSBM assholes away musically, also! Solidarity to all!!
Wisdoms End
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Wisdoms End YomaBarr said it best: this album is a bit different to listen to, but that's the special thing about conceptual pieces.
I love the Greek spoken words mixed with metal passages. It underlines the content in its message even more.

Take your time and the right moment and this record will reward you with a wonderful sitting.
more... more...
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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Digipack with 32pages booklet including lyrics, narrations, translations. Also included are references, points of inspiration & tributes, secret messages & malicious propaganda.

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    A Tribute to the BLM Struggle. Solidarity from Athens!

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    A Tribute to the BLM Struggle. Solidarity from Athens!

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1.
ΑΠΌΣΠΑΣΜΑ: ΦΥΣΑΕΙ ΣΤΑ ΣΤΑΥΡΌΔΡΌΜΙΑ ΤΌΥ ΚΌΣΜΌΥ (1953) Κι έγινε τότε μεγάλη σιωπή. Κι άρχισε ο ήλιος να κατεβαίνει μέσα στις φλόγες της δύσης. Και ο ουρανός έγινε κόκκινος. Και το χώμα κόκκινο. Σαν αίμα. Και δεν ακουγόταν τίποτα σε όλη τη γη. Και προβάλλοντας σιγά-σιγά πίσω από τα υψώματα, μεγάλες σκοτεινές φάλαγγες φάνηκαν να 'ρχονται. Από τις πεδιάδες, από τα φαράγγια, από τις χαράδρες, απ’τα βουνά απ' όλους τους δρόμους φάνηκαν να 'ρχονται. Οι νεκροί του πολέμου. Και σμίγαν τις φάλαγγες και πλήθαιναν και προχωρούσαν εκατομμύρια νεκροί. Και άναβαν κόκκινοι οι ορίζοντες σα να καιγόταν ο κόσμος. Μια γυναίκα ουρλιάζει:"γιέ μου" και χύνεται στα πόδια ενός νεκρού. Ένας νταμαρτζής φωνάζει: “μαζί τους”, ένας χτίστης: “δολοφόνοι”. Ένας αχθοφόρος σηκώνει το χέρι του και η γροθιά του πελώρια κρέμεται πάνω από τα μέγαρα. "Βοήθεια", "Μαζί τους", "Δολοφόνοι", "Γιέ μου, γιέ μου"... Και τότε ξανάρχισε ο άνεμος κι ολάκερο το πλήθος σάλεψε κι άρχισε να προχωράει∙ ένα δάσος από σηκωμένες γροθιές. Είμαστε εμείς που ζυμώνουμε και δεν έχουμε ψωμί. Εμείς που βγάζουμε το κάρβουνο και κρυώνουμε. Είμαστε εμείς που δεν έχουμε τίποτα και ερχόμαστε να πάρουμε τον κόσμο. Ειρήνη. Ειρήνη. Είμαστε οι προλετάριοι. --- Translation --- EXCERPT: WINDS AT THE WORLD'S CROSSROADS (1953) And then the great silence emerged. And the sun started its descent in the flames of the west. And the sky became red. Αnd the earth became red. Like blood. Nothing at all was heard on the earth. And coming out slowly, from behind the hillocks, huge dark columns emerged. From the plains, from the gorges, from the ravines and from all the lanes, they appeared. The dead of the war. And the columns mingled and multiplied and advanced, millions of dead. And the horizons lit red; as if the world was burning. A woman screamed “My son” and tore down on the feet of a dead man. A quarryman shouts “with them” a builder shouts, “murderers”. A porter raises his arm and his fist, enormous, hangs above the palaces. “Help”, “With them”, “Murderers”, “My son, my son”. And then the wind started blowing again and the whole crowd moved and started advancing; a huge forest of elevated fists. It is us who knead; and we have no bread. It is us who mine the coal; and are cold. It is us who have nothing and we come to take the world. We are the proletarians.
2.
ΑΠΌΣΠΑΣΜΑ: ΦΥΣΑΕΙ ΣΤΑ ΣΤΑΥΡΌΔΡΌΜΙΑ ΤΌΥ ΚΟΣΜΌΥ (1953) Eίμαστε εμείς που κλαίμε σ’ όλες τις γωνιές του κόσμου. Eμείς, που βλαστημάμε όλα τα ιερά του κόσμου. Eίμαστε εμείς που τραγουδάμε σ’ όλες τις γωνιές του κόσμου. Eιρήνη. Eιρήνη. Eίμαστε εμείς που μας θάβουν στοές. Eμείς που γκρεμιζομαστε από τις σκαλωσιές. Eμείς που πέφτουμε ουρλιάζοντας. Eιρήνη. Eιρήνη. --- Translation --- EXCERPT: WINDS AT THE WORLD’S CROSSROADS (1953) It is us, who cry in all the corners of the world. It is us who curse at all the sanctities of the world. It is us who sing in all the corners of the world. Peace. Peace. It is us, buried in the galleries. It is us, falling from the scaffolds. It is us, who fall screaming. Peace. Peace --- Lyrics --- It is we...sprung up from the debris. Οur searing scars...breath death into your tsars.
3.
*** Sample: Reenactment of Paul Robeson’s testimonial at the “House of Un-American Activities Committee” *** --- Lyrics --- So, where’s our Peace? A thousand times we died for this. We won the wars. Τhey won the peace. So, where’s our peace? A world alive & fair & free from this disease. Therein lies our Peace. Hanging on their cannons lips. In their revenue spreadsheets. Buried below the mandatory chanting of state-fed priests. *** Sample: “Time to Buy Is When There's Blood in the Streets" – Bloomberg *** Another Triumphant Defeat! Naivety is our favorite sin. Invited the jackals to share in our feast [So now we ‘re] Strolling orderly through our murdersites. Scrolling down to where nothing hurts inside. Let's hide behind big words, to suffer their laughter. Let’s greet our banishment; embrace our disaster! Again and always. Woe to the vanquished! [We’re] crawling back to the profit machine. Production lines stretching though the dead seas.
4.
ΑΠΌΣΠΑΣΜΑ: ΣΥΜΦΩΝΊΑ ΑΡ.1 (1957) Κανένας. Ερημιά. Μονάχα στους τοίχους τον ερη- μωμένων δρόμων τα σημάδια απ’ τις παλιές μας σφαίρες, κοιτάζουνε την πόλη σκοτεινά. Σαν τα πικρα τρομαγ- μένα μάτια ενός αδελφού που τον προδώσανε. Στα όπλα… Στα όπλα. Εμείς τελειώσαμε. Δεν έχει δά- κρυα πια. Κλαίνε όσοι στο βάθος ακόμα ελπίζουν. Ούτε θάνατο. Οι νικημένοι δεν μπορούν να πεθά- νουν. Σαν ένα μαχαίρι που ανοίγει ένα σφηνωμένο φέρετρο, η απελπι- σία κρατάει τα μάτια τους ανοιχτά. Στα όπλα... Κι όμως, θυμήσου, είχαμε κάπο- τε όνειρα – σημαίες στους δρόμους, βήματα, ζητωκραυγές τα χέρια μας σχεδίαζαν στον ορίζοντα τις αυρια- νές μεγάλες πολιτείες. Και τραγου- δούσαμε ολοι μαζι κι ελπίζαμε όλοι μαζί και πέφταμε όλοι μαζί. Κοιμήσου, δεν ειναι τιποτα. --- Translation --- EXCERPT: AGREEMENT N.1 (1957) No one. Desolation. Only on the walls of the crumbling streets the marks of our old bullets stare the town with a murky eye. Like the scared eyes of a betrayed brother. To arms; to arms. We are finished. No more tears. Those who cry are those who still hope, in the end. No death either. The defeated cannot die. Like a knife that opens a jammed coffin, despair keeps their eyes wide open. To arms. Yet remember. We once had dreams – Flags in the streets, steps, cheers. Our hands planned on the horizon the great polities of tomorrow. And we were singing; together. And we were hoping; together. And we were falling; together. LYRICS: Past stormings of heaven; A Descendance to Hades In the fields of ruination; [we] buried our redemption. We. tοοκ up arms. We stοοd like giants. We. Halted the world. We. Priced & Sold
5.
i) Revolutionary *** Sample: The delegation of the Greek Government, and the delegation of the Central Committee of EAM, convened a Conference at Varkiza and together we looked at the means and the way for the cessation of the civil war and the reconciliation of the Greek people. We thus concluded, in the following agreed Treaty. Οn the signing of the protocol, the President of the Conference and Minister of Foreign Affairs said the following: "I must, in any case, express on behalf of the Government and the Greek people, my acknowledgements to the esteemed representatives of the British Empire" - "The Travelling Players / Ο Θίασος (1975)" by Theodoros Angelopoulos *** Απόσπασμα: "Στίχοι γραμμένοι σε πακέτα τσιγάρα - Σημαίες (1956)" Πάνω στα ματωμένα πουκάμισα των σκοτωμένων εμείς καθόμασταν τα βράδια και ζωγραφίζαμε σκηνές από την αυριανή ευτυχία του κόσμου. Έτσι γεννήθηκαν οι σημαίες μας. Excerpt: "Lyrics written on packs of cigarette - Flags (1956)" On the bloody shirts of the slain/ We gathered in the evenings; we were painting scenes. Of tomorrow’s happiness of the world. So, our flags were born. --- Lyrics --- [old] rituals mundane. Symbolic functions of our discontent. Let all laments end; Our mental shackles; [is] their common sense. We now understand. [that] our name’s a hiss, that eerie echo that climbs the abyss. You let it sink in. Moments before your next pointless shift. Single out which new dead-ends to carry. Or choose the path of the Revolutionary. [And] all those times we lost heart. All those times we felt desperate, detached & numb. All those times we felt obsolete, detached & numb. [Always] the memory of her hand. The memory of her hand. In that last barricade. Defending our common land. Through this desert of the Real. Arm yourselves with the Optimism of the Will. Give me cover with your shield. Rise above, the ruins of Fear. ii) Homeland *** Sample from: BBC reporter, covering the Greek government suppression of the General Strike & demonstration in Athens, Syntagma Square, on December 3rd 1944 *** Απόσπασμα¨"Στίχοι γραμμένοι σε πακέτα τσιγάρα - Σε περιμένω παντου (1956)". Γιατί δικη πατρίδα μας είναι όλοι οι δρόμοι. που στο πλάγια τους κοιμούνται οι σκοτωμένοι του αγώνα μας Excerpt: "Lyrics written on packs of cigarette - I am waiting for you everywhere (1956)". Because our homeland is all the roads that on their side sleep the dead of our struggle.
6.
ΑΠΌΣΠΑΣΜΑ: ΜΑΧΗ ΣΤΗΝ ΑΚΡΗ ΤΗΣ ΝΥΧΤΑΣ (1952) Πέντε δίκοχα γύρω. Ο λοχαγός δίχως όνομα. Ένα παιδί γυμνό, κρεμασμένο απ τα χέρια. Αυλακωμένο το σώμα του, κουρελιασμένο απ’ τις βουρδουλιές. Μόλις πατάνε τα νύχια του στο πάτωμα όπως σηκώνεται κανείς να δει ένα κορίτσι που γελάει πίσ’ απ’ το φράχτη. Ο λοχαγός τον ρωτάει. Ο βούρδουλας καίει το πετσί. Τώρα πρέπει να μιλήσει, για να σωθεί. Πρέπει να πάψει να θυμάται και να ζήσει. Θέλει να ζήσει, όπως θέλετε και σεις. Τώρα πρέπει να μιλήσει, για να σωθεί. Πρέπει να πάψει να ονειρεύεται και να ζήσει. Η μέρα είναι ακόμα μακριά και φοβάται μη γονατίσει όπως φοβόσαστε και σεις. Τώρα πρέπει να μιλήσει, για να σωθεί. Πρέπει να πάψει να αγαπάει και να ζήσει. Ο λοχαγός λέει: μίλησε. Ο βούρδουλας λέει: μίλησε. Η νύχτα λέει: μίλησε. Μα η νύχτα είναι λίγη, οι σύντροφοι πολλοί. Και έκοψε μετα δόντια του τη γλώσσα, όπως θα κάνατε και σεις. [Φωνητικά] Και πηγαίνετε να πεθάνετε εσείς που πρέπει να πεθάνετε. Όπως πεθαίνει το κλήμα για να γεννηθεί το τραγούδι και το όνειρο και η γιορτή. Αν φοβηθείτε εσείς, η ζωή είναι αναρίθμητη και άλλους θα στείλει να την υπερασπίσουν. Γιατί δεν είναι άλλος δρόμος, άλλο χέρι, άλλο όνειρο, άλλη σημαία, άλλη καρδιά, άλλο άστρο, άλλη δικαιοσύνη - από τη ζωή. Και πηγαίντε να ξεχαστείτε, εσείς που πρέπει να ξεχαστείτε. --- Translation --- EXCERPT: BATTLE ON THE EDGE OF THE NIGHT (1952) Five forage-caps around. A nameless captain. A naked youngster hanged by his hands. His body is grooved and welt by the lashes. His toenails barely touch the floor, as if someone stands upright to see a girl laughing behind the fence. The captain asks The whip burns the skin. Now is the time to speak. To save himself. To live he must stop remembering. He wants to live. Like you do. To save himself he must now speak, to live he must stop dreaming. The day is still long and he is afraid of kneeling, as you are afraid as well. He must now speak to save himself. To live he must stop loving. The captain says “speak” the whip says “speak” The night says “speak”. But the night is short and the comrades are many. And he cut his tongue with his teeth, like you would. [Vocals] So go ahead and die, all you that must die. Like the vine dies if the song and the dream and the feast are to be born. If you get scared, life is countless, and more will be sent to defend it. For there is no other way, no other hand, no other dream, no other flag, no other heart, no other star, no other justice; but Life. And the forsaken must go where they must, to be forsaken. --- Lyrics --- So go ahead and die; all you that must die More will come forth, to break the ice All hail our Mourning Militancy. [Our] collective grip to sanity Long live this great Federation of Sorrows; Our past defeats; now gleam tomorrow [Translation] Sacred hatred give me your hand On the bloody shirts, of the slain We gathered in evenings; were paintings scenes Of tomorrow’s happiness of the world So, our flags were born / Έτσι γεννήθηκαν οι σημαίες μας.
7.
ΑΠΟΣΠΑΣΜΑ: ΣΥΜΦΩΝΙΑ ΑΡ.1 (1957 Θα θελα να μιλήσουμε, απόψε, σύντροφε. Χρόνια ονειρευόμουν αυτά τα λόγια. Έτσι περάσανε τα χρόνια. Οι μέρες κατατρακυλούσαν, μέσα σ’ έν’ αδιάκοπο θόρυβο - Αγάλματα που συνθλίβονται, φιλίες που γκρεμίζονται, πόρτες κλείναν με πάταγο. Άνθρωποι τρέχουν στους δρόμους, πατώντας ο ένας πάνω στον άλλον. Οι σεισμογράφοι τρέμουν απ’ τις απότομες αλλαγές. Μεγάλες λέξεις δε λέγαν πια τίποτα και τις πετούσαν στους οχετούς. Ένας άγνωστος κόσμος. Που είμαστε; Θυμάσαι, αλήθεια, νιώθαμε ζεστασιά μέσα στο πλήθος, καθώς βαδίζαμε πλημμυρίζοντας τους δρόμους. Τα χέρια μας άγγιζαν, οι φωνές μας αγκαλιάζονταν, μεσ’ στα τραγούδια. Η επίθεση πετύχαινε, συνεδριάζαμε, εκλέγαμε τα επαναστατικά συμβούλια και ανάμεσα στις λάμψεις των πυρκαγιών, τους πυροβολισμούς, και τον αέρα υπήρχαμε. Κι εσυ, παλιέ μου, χαμένε σύντροφε, η σφαίρα που σε πήρε, σκέφτομαι απόψε ίσως να ταν σοφή, και σε προφύλαξε απ’ τον αυριανό εαυτό σου. Α, Εσύ δεν είδες ποτέ το ίδιο σου το χέρι να σε σημαδεύει αλύπητα από το βάθος των περασμένων. Αυτά είχα να σου πω. Να σου διηγηθώ όνειρα, θυσίες, τύψεις, δάκρυα. Να σου πω για κάποιον που δεν τον αγάπησε κανείς και πέρασε όλη του τη ζωή μέσα στην καταφρόνια και τη μοναξιά μέχρι που σώθηκε. Και να σου πω για κείνον, που έζησε μες στις επευφημίες και γέλασε και τραγούδησε και απόλαυσε και χάθηκε. --- Translation --- EXCERPT: AGREEMENT N.1 (1957) I want us to talk tonight comrade. For years I dreamed these words. Thus, the years rolled, and the days tumbled in a continuous rumble. Statues that are crushed, friendships that are toppled, doors shutting with a bang. Humans running in the streets trampling one another. Seismographs tremble from the rapid changes. The great words were now meaningless and they were thrown in the drain. An unknown world. Where are we? Do you remember; really? We felt warmth in the crowd while walking, overflowing the streets. Our hands touched; our voices embraced; in the singing. The charge was successful, we were meeting, we elected revolutionary bodies and in the glare of the flames, the gunshots and the air; we existed. And you; my old, lost comrade! The bullet that took you away, I am thinking tonight, may have been wise and shielded you from your future self. Oh, you have never seen your own hand aiming you ruthlessly from the depth of the past. This, is what I had to say to you. To tell you about dreams, sacrifices, tears and regrets. To tell you about someone who spent his whole life in loneliness and despair, till the moment he was saved. And to tell you about someone, who lived in a life of desires and laughed and sang and enjoyed; and vanished. --- Spoken --- Our lives are mediated by platforms that, in their most benign incarnation, profit from the information we freely offer, exploiting our emotional and cognitive abilities in an ever-escalating bid for our attention. In a no less frequent manifestation of our platform economy, a complex system of surveillance disguises itself within our hyper-fantasy of connection. At Facebook, you are the product. Amazon is a convenient service provider for the private citizen––and ICE uses its technology when tracking and apprehending immigrants. Perhaps most staggering of all, none of this is secret. [Sanja Grozdanić on the work of McKenzie Wark] --- Lyrics --- Our days; tattered; our sleepless nights; train, their algorithm’s patterns. [But] beneath the[ir] pile of percentages; we still draw breath. Don't Forget to remember our future; on this New Planet called Earth.
8.
--- Lyrics --- Still waiting for that nuclear eclipse? we are knee-deep in the post - Apocalypse Our lives embalmed; grim & weary Decorating the Walls of our Adversary Boiling Heat Barren soils; panting for breath We left the Rich to rule this Earth Still unable … to comprehend We left the Rich to rule this Earth Billions paths lead to this singular strife Terraform society; to sustain our life We decided to live We find haven in all the lands of the poor We will endure / this world we will cure [because] We decided to live / breath / retrieve We find guidance in(side) the hearts of the poor we will blossom into the dream of a fool It is us - it is We [we’ll] Reclaim our Future from Commodity It is us - it is We We are the Forthcoming Humanity And so it shall be
9.
ΑΠΟΣΠΑΣΜΑ: ΑΥΤΟ ΤΌ ΑΣΤΕΡΙ ΕΙΝΑΙ ΓΙΑ ΟΛΟΥΣ ΜΑΣ (1952) Αγαπημένη μου. Σε αγαπώ πιο πολύ απ ότι μπορώ να σου πω με λόγια. Θα θελα να πεθάνω μαζί σου, αν κάποτε πέθαινες. Κι όμως, αγαπημένη μου. Δεν μπορούσα πια να σε αγαπώ όπως άλλοτε. Κλείναμε πίσω μας τη πόρτα και κρυώναμε. κλείναμε τα παράθυρα και κρυώναμε πιο πολύ. Και καθώς γύριζα να δω τα μάτια σου έβλεπα ταμάτια της γειτόνισσας, που της σκοτώσανε τέσσερα παιδιά Και καθώς άπλωνα να βρω το χέρι σου, ήταν σαν να κλεβα το ψωμί απ’ τα χέρια των πεινασμένων. Αγαπημένη μου, ακούς; Όχι, δεν είναι ο άνεμος, φτάνει από πιο μακριά. Θα λεγες πως χιλιάδες βήματα κατηφορίζουνε στους δρόμους, χιλιάδες αρβύλες που βροντάνε τα καρφιά τους πάνω στην άσφαλτο. Που πάνε; Πως μπορούν και φεύγουν; Και ύστερα μένουμε εμείς. Που μένουμε; Γιατί μένουμε; Πως θα άνοιγα μια πόρτα όταν δεν θα τανε για να σε συναντήσω. Πως να διαβώ ένα κατώφλι αφού δεν θα 'ναι για να σε βρω. Όχι, δεν θα μπορούσα να ζήσω μακριά σου αγαπημένη μου. Μα απόψε σε όλες τις γωνιές μας περιμένουν οι άνθρωποι. --- Στίχοι --- Πάμε! --- Translation --- EXCERPT: THIS STAR IS FOR ALL OF US (1952) My love. Beloved, I love you more than I can express in words. I would love to die with you if you ever died. And yet. And yet my beloved. I could not love you as I used to. We would close the door behind us and feel the shiver from the cold. We would close the windows and shiver even more. And as I was turning to look into your eyes, I would see the eyes of the neighbor whose four children had been killed. And as I was reaching out for your hand, it was as if I were stealing bread from the hands of the hungry. Do you hear me, my love? No, it is not the wind. It comes from way afar. You would say that thousands of strides are descending down the streets, thousands of boots rattle their hobnails on the asphalt. Where are they going? How can they leave? And then we stay. Where do we stay? Why do we stay? How I would open a door when I would not meet you. How to walk past a threshold since I would never find you. No, I could not have lived away from you, my dear. I could not. But tonight; the people are waiting for us in all the corners of the world. --- Lyrics --- [Let's go]

about

A concept album.
A tribute.
A conclusion.

Based on the poems of Tasos Leivaditis, the brilliant poet of Revolution and Love, we tried to create a singular narrative, spanning different times, places, struggles; with our future being the final question mark.

The ultimate, obscure prize.

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released October 2, 2020

Narration by Antriana Andreovits

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Yovel Athens, Greece

“The sign is the search itself, the sign is you!

You, hobbling out of the mud of the roads.

It’s you. We who are questing: we are the now, the past and that which is yet to come

The old are stationary [they’ve already been.] Old believers, dead already

The bricks of the Cathedral say nothing”.

/// Q ///
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