Deepset - The Lights We Shed Shall Burn Your Eyes (2008) (MP3-320Kbps)

Bueno,quería compartir esta joya que he encontrado por ahí.Es para escuchar en plan tranquilo,sin agobios,a esto cuatro tipos de Singapur.Creo que no tienen desperdicio.



Artist: Deepset
Title Of Album: The Lights We Shed Shall Burn Your Eyes
Year Of Release: 2008
Label: KittyWu Records
Genre: Indie, Instrumental Rock,Experimental.
Quality: Mp3
Bitrate: 320 kbps
Total Time: 53 min.
Total Size: 121 Mb.

Tracklist:

01. Put Your Dreams To Sleep
02. Where Were They (When The Fun Went Out)?
03. Close To A Cure
04. Have You Ever Danced With The Devil Under A Pale Moonlight?
05. If You Can Still Hear This Whispering, You Are Dying
06. Every Instance In Time Is A Journey Of Hope

http://www.myspace.com/deepbeep







Synopsis by Andy Kissner (thesilentballet.com - 2008)

Score: 8/10

Earlier this year, on balmy summer evenings, I'd take the Maxima for a drive through downtown St. Petersburg, Florida. It was 3 AM, the moon roof was open, and I owned the night. How Strange, Innocence was my companion as I prowled the empty streets, just me and the stars and the car and the music, and I was happy. Having always enjoyed my own company, content to have a soundtrack as a sole acquaintance, I found those hours to be some of the best. I pondered a lot about a lot, my philosophical waxings and hypothetical musings leading me to the depressing conclusion that I had to be alone.

There was definitely comfort in the solitude. You see, everybody you trust will one day hang you out to dry. I have faith in no one; my editor, the weatherman, my girlfriend, they've all let me down. Month after month the powers that be have sent me a bland, watered down "post-rock" album to pick apart. The meteorologist has been promising snow for weeks while we'd yet to have a single flake. And my girlfriend, well, she screwed some guy named Peter over Thanksgiving (ex-girlfriend is probably a more appropriate term at this point). Isaac Brock famously opined that "anyone can equally easily fuck you over" and I'd be inclined to agree.

At least, I was inclined to agree. Things have changed, and now I might be forced to reconsider. Because sometimes, people can surprise you; occasionally, they'll throw you a bone. Once in awhile, instead of bland, watered down instrumentals, your editor places something special on your desk. Deepset, your album is my bone. You are my something special.

They are in fact so special that I don't even know where to begin. Shimmering guitars, bombastic drums, pretty washes of distortion: there are a limited number of adjectives and nouns that I can use to describe this sort of music, and one of my major regrets is that I've wasted them on all releases of a lesser caliber. Seniority cedes the Mogwai, Explosions in the Sky, and Caspian to other writers, often leaving me to sift through the dregs, and I guess I never thought I'd get a CD of such merit all to myself. So now that I'm faced with the opportunity to critique what I feel to be one of the strongest releases of 2008, I'm beset with a writer's block of the worst sort. I can't think of any way to tackle The Lights We Shed Shall Burn Your Eyes except to filter it through my own subjective lens.

The ground is sparse and barren, the mercury dead set in the teens, the earth empty and lifeless – the spoils of a winter in upstate New York. It is frankly too cold for words, too cold for Newports, too cold for anything but brooding inside of a cramped dorm room with no heat while the world ticks by second by frigid second. How else to put it - Deepset provides the perfect accompaniment to this Arctic backdrop. The songs are funereal and elegiac, brimming with a chimerical sadness that I can't quite put my finger on. As the album progresses they get longer and longer, expanding in duration from five minutes to nearly thirteen. More than that though, each track builds upon the last, pushing the routine of guitar, drum, and bass to its limit.

Picking a standout might not be fair. Each song is unique and powerful and absolutely wonderful. But if I had to, I'd choose the two closers, as the choice cuts on the disc, for no reason but their length – both surpass the twelve minute mark. I guess that says it all right there: Deepset leaves me wanting more. When "Every instance in time is a journey of hope" fades out and the album comes to a close, my only instinct is to go back to the beginning and start all over again. It's been a long time since a record has made me feel that way, let alone an instrumental one.

The only criticism that could realistically be leveraged against The Lights We Shed might be that it's formulaic, and there's no getting around that. Yes, this has been done before on albums like The Four Trees, It Is Curtains, and the Young Mountain EP. In all likelihood, it will probably be done again in years to come. But there's only so much one can do with the post-rock canvas, and a lot of it ends up sounding the same. So while this music might have been groundbreaking in 2000, I'm afraid that too many people in 2008 will write Deepset off as another Explosions in the Sky mock-up. They're wrong. This is nothing drastically new, but it's so well executed – it's so god damned fantastic – that it just doesn't matter. When I'm listening to this album, nothing matters. They're dead wrong.

***

It snowed last night. Like I said, things change. By sheer chance, the weatherman has to get it right once in awhile, and I guess yesterday was the day. It's remarkable, really, how amazing frozen water can be at six in the morning to somebody who's still fucked up from the night before. Watching the ephemeral flakes illuminated, cast black against streetlights, I was filled with a strange nostalgia for another kind of white Christmas, the December days spent on a Florida beach, the Gulf of Mexico washing away sand and shells and worries and regrets. So, sure, the temperature had dropped with my self esteem, but not much else was different. I had simply rearranged the deck chairs on my Titanic, replaced one cheating girlfriend with another, traded in the unforgettable music of years gone by for the soon unforgettable music of the present. Sand for sleet, Carley for Bianca, Explosions for Deepset, it was all the same. More than just wistfulness, the accumulation of that fine powder on the ground stirred in me a strange desire to call my ex, to make amends, to grant clemency. People can surprise you, right? My editor, the weatherman – why not my girlfriend?

And then it stopped. The snow ceased to fall.

I hung up the phone.

-Andy Kissner

http://thesilentballet.com/dnn/Home/...9/Default.aspx

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