ARCTURUS ~~~~~~~~ "LA MASQUERADE INFERNALE" '97 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Master Of Disguise Ad Astra The Chaos Path La Masquerade Infernale Alone The Throne Of Tragedy Painting My Horror Of Nails And Sinners Master Of Disguise ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ("No! this face is only a mask, a wicked ornament, illuminated by an exquisite grimace, Look and see, atrociously contorted, The real head, and the sincere face Turned back under the shadow of the face which lies" Charles Baudelaire) He is profanity in sancity's guise An alias assumed I do realize In their eyes, his cause - when enticing and cunning in impact is still a criminal and evil act So look for him vainly, He, the incarnation of magickal nature He turns unrecognizable even to the experienced eye You obsessively pursue him Failing to see, hat was why he came to be one who annihilates with such impunity He appears your friend, but the Saint hides many Satans He's contemptous, you know of your Godgiven stupidies He calls you in question with affected modesty and create of you an object of derision You think him to be pariah whom company does exclude But in the midst of all frenzy He is - feasting in a transitory mood Passion is a strict lord He is also its humble slave When bereft of common ways, He strides before you on water He makes clowns of kings, charm the guests, rides the ball Is the master of disguise Prince of the thousandfold face the charming jester's smile which invites reason to demise and imaginations rise Inscrutable yes, venting his spleen Somewhere night and day between Is the master of disguise Ad Astra ~~~~~~~~ I have everywhere sought, and nowhere found So I lift the bleedin' bodkin And trust the grief deepest in The gleaming bodies of the infinite skies Have for my spirit The cold charm Of death's welcoming eyes In secret to my soul They are ideals of old The Chaos Path ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Await the coming storm. Behold the sign in the sun. Chaos upon us spawn! The arrows of time points us all. Oh, well, the maddening laughter growing louder with the memories. Atoms like incence rising, like a thousand candles all blown out at once. Fear tangled with despair. This ghastly symphony of malice breaks it. The spirit sails out on waters. An intergalactic sea of sorrow. Solemn oblivion with thee. Ways of darkness. The third eye reflects the images of vast reluctant pasts. Ethereal eternity awaits the final act. It crawls towards the altar destined to collaps. Tragic legend, eerie stratum. Twisten, this mortal flesh invoked again, with the echoes still haunting; The curses chanting. Embrace this outcast state of chaos. After all this unalterable. Beweep this thought, then arise with wisdom. Nowhen I hallow in the gateway of different plains. Open your heart and let go. Oh Vanish. Divine infinity. Ah, this wrath I am. So many aeons ago since. Ah I suffer eternally. The inevitable did unfold. Oh well, a collection of particles held together by the force of a soul and its memory. Be warned (you stand) on the edge of infinity; Where coloured waves will lead the way into the void. Fear tangled with despair. This ghastly symphony of malice. Oh, well, the maddening laughter growing louder with the memories now. Atoms like incense rising. Ways of darkness. The third eye reflects the images of vast reluctant pasts. Ethereal eternity awaits the final act. You are drawn towards the altar destined to collaps. Tragic legend, eerie stratum. In between the arrows of time I suffer eternally. La Masquerade Infernale ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (Instrumental) Alone ~~~~~ Poem by Edgar Allan Poe From childhood's hour I have not been As others were - I have not seen As others saw - I could not bring My passions from a common spring From the same source I have not taken My sorrow; I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone; And all I lov'd, I lov'd alone Then - in my childhood - in the dawn Of a most stormy life - was drawn From ev'ry depth of good and ill The mystery which binds me still: From the torrent, or the fountain, From the red cliff of the mountain From the sun that 'round me roll'd In it's autumn tint of gold - From the lighting in the sky As it pass'd me flying by - From the thunder and the storm, And the cloud that look the form (When the rest of Heaven was blue) Of a demon in my view. The Throne Of Tragedy ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ based on the poem "Tragedins Trone" by John Henrik Svaren, is translated by the undersigned, and hereby dedicated to Kristoffer Garm Rygg Hear! From this day forth are the heights of Horeb broken and the sea of sulphur-ice. And blasphemy! in heaven's chambers: Souls had fled their halls and closed was the book of life. And behold! The great, white throne: black with sacred blood Our father - Dead by his own hands: an epitaph worthly no kong. And so is everything a nameless lie. Who, my god, am I? Man knows me as Lucifer, the serpent of old. The wretched hold my banner high. Your gift - all life! - I grant a grave Yet I am not your death. Come carry forth the crown to your once held throne. Here is where my suffering should cease - but alas; I am crowned in grief unheard of! In this lone monarchy - without a friend of foe - I greet the mourning sun with strife and a song: Please speak my name! And leave me not in the dust of death. I am weighed down beneath the tragedy crown, - nameless, and alone, a fatherless son. JHS 1996 Painting My Horror ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was a dark night, I couldn't see; And sences were unbound in ESP When in dream awake, I'd paint. Subconscious, the expance I saw The portal to minds eye, open! - I contemplated Who it was that pulled the strings Of those things I saw in dreadful masquerade Of stark madness went merry round with my head I passed out, embraced their world Savoured the poetry of revolt - Sheer elegy of menace I have not been the same since, I took on the profession of a devil The world I see in a grotesque light Evil perform with the gestures of a clown Pure I live in blasphemy Mephisto I am hidden in Madonnas gown From the code of common sense I'm free To bad you are not here to partake my strange horror 'Cause here is where our ways will part I will not exchange this power, spring of my suffering, I do not envy the conscience pure of the blind man in his bliss world I would not be devoid the fruit of guile Of Nails And Sinners ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ("I know that without me God cannot live a moment; If I am destroyed He must give up the ghost" Angelus Silesius) I beseech you, God to whom many sinners pray From the depth of the dark abyss where my heart fell Expelled I was from your tedious grace to the pits of hell So can please cease to deplore my opposite, may only way For aeons I descended down Till I saw the dreadful truths of which man wouldn't know I, degraded bearer of thy sacred light - to which I never again will bow When I rise to avenge myself with darkness The anger of the damned shall flow I was cast out by the retinue of angels weak Shone to the few who me would seek A rebel I was, radiant my glow, afar, My wisdom fathomed by the morningstar And O your fools, in herdlike fright, stampede And when creation falls, you must build anew, With nails that sting My hands - They grow passionate on a lie But You know the veracious one was I ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hugh Steven James Mingay Limousine & Low Frequences G. Wolf Statements, Samples, Loops & Buffoonery Jan Axel Von Blomberg Hellhammers Knut M. Valle Guitar Treatments Steinar Sverd Johnsen Synthetic Devices Of Horror ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Recorded in Jester Studio during a period from the 12th month of 1996 ev. till the end of the 5th month, 1997 ev. The mix was masterly conducted by Borge Finstad from the 2nd til the 12th day of the 6th month 1997 ev. in Major Studio. Produced by G. Wolf and Knut M. Valle. Mastered by Gandalf Stryke & G. Wolf at Strype Laboratories ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (C) 1997 Misanthropy Records (P) 1997 Amazonian Music