HORSES IN THE SKY

Latest in the achievements of Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra and the Tra-La-La Band (yes, that's the proper name alright), Horses In The Sky wears the full characteristics, the omnipresent intentions, the substantial intentions and the chronologic flow consequences and persistence. As, perhaps only by the exception of their most important works, the sonority of Silver Mt. Zion went in a gratitude of vision, still in a less pretentious form of accomplishments. The ideal is the energy of the renown and the brand's monumentality, but - mostly always - discussion could (even in the sense of "being allowed") have been formed - mostly always - as to what is great and what could have been great, what is densely attributed and what is formally motioned, what captivates and what succumbs et caetera. By that, the album can easily be placed in an option's control down the bottom (hate to use the word "lowest"). All I can really tell is that notions are of the abstract fundament and the rules (which aren't rules) are by the vertical principles; little to find eccentrically definitory is to discover; however inside the machine lies some precious details; and that gives to the composition some essential points that worth a listen, worth appreciation, even worth the addiction. That is what to expect.

In a non-conformism that is recognizable (and by that I'm not saying it's not select music appurtenance, actually I'm saying that it is), in the odd melodicism and through the common methods to surprise, to enlighten, to explain, to reveal or to simply play, the composition is very firm, dense, dark colored and of a symbolic orientation. Not to look prototypic all, but things as such presented here have been done, have been done better, have been done wiser. The context is the sole even of attraction (arguable, naturally, on how you like it). The form is malleable entirely towards the interest. The nebulous manifest is open to a response. Hidden is the personal pleasure.

There is a vigorous accent on the vocals and on the tangible chords of the narrative feeling (though it's leit-motif and not spoken words or told fact), but in the same way evolves the instrumental artifact - quite a difference to notice from other albums. Regarding the "lyrics" and the word movement, emotion is superlative and Efrim does art vocal sui generis (this to contradict the voices simply calling him bad singer - after so many occasions, he's really doing something stylistically). There's a pain in his timber, there's a sensibility in his tone, there's full maturity in the desired realization. Regarding the instrumental, it is quite a forceful composition with its uphold moments. From a personal style of lugubrious sound edifications to real exceptions like "godspeedian" climaxed (first one from first piece is amazing!) or intensive deep, profound, cumulated ornamentations. Speaking of special moments, the album's not entirely a force, but the selectiveness brings a gem-like impression. Music is elaborated, on a strong note.

Horses In The Sky is a metaphor, a reality analogy, a phantasmagorical overdone dream, an impossibility, moreover an inaccuracy. For yet another frame, do the artists contemplate, offer to contemplate, demand virulently to be contemplated a view into the unknown, perhaps even in the unwanted. The ideology is rusty and deflagrate, eliminating any casual consideration. It's a visible world of either the cruel reality or the imagined negativism. The tone, cold, unemotional (being emotional), unshaped properly, unavenged naturally, gives scope not from the outside image, but from the heart's vital discontent, where everything is conceived and every theory is convinced as demonstration. And the outside image can just as well be optimistic, fine or undamaged, sunny and clear, warm and intuitively thoughtful, but the voice of shadow wants it trustworthy degrading and virulently admonished. Every ideal is a drama; every feeling is a lamento; upon constant melodicity surpass comes the unresolved sensitive rustle. Seen from the darkness of a basement, the outside image is pointed as something mediocre and something against its nature; decisively it is only the paranoia of an incurable obsession; like so, there lies danger, pain and sadness instead of a too convincing abstinence; there fling guns and threats, instead of silent intentions; there lies the phobia instead of the passionate gesture of help, of smile, of healing hope. It's a situation made worse it's a shout lifted to nobody's hearing. The world is just too old and too sick (both ways of interpretation) to get on working out. Thus horses in the sky will never be seen or heard of. Nihilistically, though everything is divine blend of good and evil, rejected is the satisfaction and forever welcomed is the concern. After the rage and the dark storm comes the extraordinary silence: made defenseless or forced, just the way feared? Installed, in unison and conformism, on one nuance and one chrome is the representation; much to say it isn't But how diverse and how intense can it, ondulatory, movemently, go is quite interesting.

Considerably emotional and illustrative, tempestly relaxed and silently insinuated, effectively glanced and curiously to perceive, Horses In The Sky is a good album in which the essentials go indubitable and the credit can credit acknowledgement viewpoints. Behind all said and all left to say, besides the glitches and the things making your doubt exteriorize and between marginalization and contemplations, the artists do their unbreakable habit of demanding a special look instead of a normal one. A fixed relation desired finished; a reality turned upside-down. Even for a moment. Even for a short chance. Even for that dying breath.