#fall of efrafa

[bodybehaviour]

got my second watership down tattoo

[nekrostench]

[linkj0ckey]

Fall of Efrafa

last week I reposted a Richard Dawkins quote, taken from a sample used in the song For el Ahraira to cry, by the English band Fall of Efrafa.

I knew of Dawkins before discovering this band, because he coined the term Meme in his book "The Selfish Gene", but I didn't know about his atheistic side. His atheistic speeches are quite popular, he even got a divulgative TV show. Is quite funny that the same band also uses Alan Watts samples on other songs. Watts was one of the responsibles of disseminating Zen buddhism and other oriental beliefs on the west, along with Joseph Cambell or Daisets Suzuki.

Anyways, Fall Of Efrafa: English Atmospheric Crust Punk I guess. Thet existed only for a few years (2005-2009) releasing 3 albums, all of them excellent. They based their project on Richard Adams' Watership Down, and took the lore of their rabbit protagonists to a new level of social and political commentary. Though the book already shares this approach, it was originally just a childrens story that Adams created to entertain his own daughters. I like to call it The Lord of the Rings but with rabbits.

I recently got the "Art and Lyrics of Fall of Efrafa" book by Alex CF (the singer of the band), and it's an amazing piece of art. I have not fully read it yet, its mostly the artwork, sketches and lyrics, but it also contains some thoughs by Alex himself, about the process and memories he has.

Sorry for the long post. TL:DR listen to Fall of Efrafa \m/

Love,

[farewell-persephone]

[myaetherturnsfleshtogravel]

[myaetherturnsfleshtogravel]

[daemien1323]

Fall Of Efrafa - Owsla (2006)

Nope. There's nothing goth about this release. And I care not.

[bleakmonger]

These throws of rapture, kindly hands caress broken bones, hands that cut through parched soul like a sharpened stone. What is it that we leave in these fitting moments? Sentiment? These curtains fall and wrap us up in our rigor mortis, the nimble fingers of the black one, his majesty of cold, courting me into sweet abeyance. The malign steely touch of needle thorns massing and directing their gaze on my misfiring neurons. The vestiges of my sickening life, of my loves, my crowning glories, the pain and poetry of a spent existence. He coils up inside me now, kissing me and whispering sweet nothings. The words of release, the words I crave as I lose all, as the clotted mass of cumuli nimbus bows his head in salute. As i claw upwards, as i fall back into oblivion and his words speak out amongst the frightening turbulence, those final fleeting words i coax from his abhorrent throat. "Will you join my owsla?"