For Those Who Listen

For Those Who Listen

What all do you think you’ve heard so far?

Have you heard the sound of a sobbing eagle?

Have you heard the sound of a bumble bee fart?

Have you heard the sound of semen flowing in the genitals?

Have you heard the sound of wet clothes drying in the sun?

Have you heard the sound of a walrus bleed?

Have you heard the sound of the remnant bile juices oozing about in a dead man’s stomach?

Have you heard the sound of the stone that the wind took a hundred years to turn?

Have you heard the sound of a crocodile cry?

Have you heard the sound of a monk meditating?

Have you heard the sound of a mother’s mind as she hums a lullaby?

Have you heard the sound of an unborn child’s whispers?

Have you heard the sound of electricity?

Have you heard the sound of the mulberry silkworm breeding silk?

Have you heard the sound of your knee wound healing?

Have you heard the sound of trees breathing?

Have you heard the sound of a baboon scratch himself to death?

Have you heard the sound of a burning lava bubble burst?

Have you heard the sound of a silent prayer to Allah?

Have you heard the sound of metal rust in a haunted attic?

Have you heard the sound of the snow-flakes land on Morrison’s grave?

He said “The nature offers music to those who listen”

And I am merely thinking about it, the second person, while you are the third person who hears it in your head. We are living among such a desperately occupied breed that everything is going about as the globe trots on its axis. All the children of the earth are insane, they are in a shanty town that ran out of water a while ago and everybody is burnt from the heat. These whipped out brains are waiting for the summer rain preparing to dance in it but they don’t know that whatever Sulphur that the raindrops have will react harshly when they stand naked with their tongues swaying out of their mouths like dogs waiting for bones of ecstasy to be showered from their gods above the white clouds and blue skies. I stand afar from these hybrid bodies for a second and see all this happening in what I might call quite a panoramic view for my perception thinking to myself that the gods must be crazy and, so forth, I ponder over the silent catastrophe they have entitled ‘life’.

To shine a light, above are the faintest noises are like the Argon in the air, minutely pedestrian and we just cannot spot them in the blinding lights and deafening horns of our lives and amidst everything you’ve heard. All this time, you don’t know the sound of nature, and the soul feels like it missed the call of nature, but then just having a faint conscious realizing of this supremacy in the acrobatics of corporate and domestic lives, you feel proud of yourself. More than pride it is the power of sound, it may not be as fast as light but it sure is as powerful and enlightening for the soul, it’s like listening to Beethoven at a McDonald’s on an international space station as you float past the Cruze-Thru grabbing your McVeggie and McShake on your way to the destined work. Only if you could live a few thousand years would you have the honour of experiencing such a cinematic orchestra, and while you fly by traffic-less Saturn rings you see the ultimate sacrifice of the moon at lunch time. And, you have been bestowed with the senses to fathom the comparison and evolution from one lowly resonant earthly aural frequency to a sublime dark and privileged, flashy extreme.

Call it an early bar mitzvah of my new Sennheiser’s, and talking about being guilty as charged, not that I am delineating in search of a criminal reason but I have recently caught this fever, it is like being re-discovered, it surpasses all levels. That again is Meta, this is what I love. It’s called dark psychedelic trance music. With all the technicalities and depths involving in producing such reverberations and savouring it maybe in a dark dungeon or over the evening bourbon it is perfect, it is motivating at noon, refreshing by the evening, dark and psychedelic at night and inspiring in the next morning. It reminds of me of the blood flowing in the streams below my skin and the pumping inside my forte chest and the best part — it is very accelerating for the soul, and by accelerating I do mean a positive acceleration, there is no retardation. The ceremonious point of reference could be Scatterbrain’s Mexican Jesus. “Because the next thing you know it is that you are taking it again and you are going down that tunnel” You may find it terrifying but enlightenment is the silver lining. I believe stirring with a few esoteric herbs it can be the cure for arthritis, maybe schizophrenia, surely boredom, it is too involving and I quote “it is not a drug, it is the holy sacrament.” There was this one time I was sitting alone amidst the congestions of my little room and listening to a song called “Mental Hotline” by Space Buddha, and there were times were I had been much more elated than I was that night and suddenly I saw a red beam of light flash through the room, it seemed very faint in front of the white light from my laptop and for a moment I thought it is just the music that I am soberly hallucinating on and I was satisfied because with such music it makes sense, since that is exactly what this music is about, it transfuses reality with an ecstatic illusion and you are fuckin’ loving and living it and while ‘it’ is reality and it is yours truly. It is as exciting as the games of fire to children.

Also, the artists seem dilettantish but their sense of naming their tracks is very relative to the manner the Indians try to meaningfully name their children. Tracks like “Day the Funk Died” whatever you can make of track that has such a name; the track is way above and beyond what you think when you listen to it. #FarebiJalebi, not only do they name their tracks well, they have amazing commercial nameplate for themselves as well, very intriguing at the least. They are like today’s Charanjit Singh, and that might be the most esoteric complement I could ever give them.

The only negative thing I can make out about such music is that you have to keep yourself hydrated enough for it because it occupies you; it is like an exercise more rather like your favourite activity or let’s say a hobby. I sometimes refer to it as the murderer, the murderer of all that’s bad!

It is like a memory of the future, imagine a neo-kingdom in humanity where you fly about like a giant robot with a hyper electronic techno whip lashing at nano-molecular legos of technology, the bugs of the future, and that is your life. It is like the early age of a distant future, you would be the early man of the zillionth tomorrow because it is never late. And your senses are at the tip of your lash riding on through a future storm and dark-psy or psy-trance or dark-trance is the music to be played on the then subwoofers of your electronic chariot.

And all you do is listen and see and absorb all that’s there, sometimes unknowingly, but all the fuckin’ time. A general soul would want to be on the crime scene of its own murder but not you, you are busy in an afterlife. There is so much out there. Who has the time to sit back and relax, no matter what playlist is on you keep driving life and music is playing even when the auxiliary cable ain’t working.

One is the sound that the nature fabricates, the underlying, background noises at dog pitched frequencies that are rarely audible amidst all the hustle and then there is one heavy, psychopathically arcane resonance of the murdering beats of dark trance and these are like two extremes and extracting a page from humanity where I see quite a few bundles of bones walking about introducing themselves as ones who don’t like the symphonies. Music is the best way to understand yourself, to reach your inner self and you may play sweet jazz and talk to yourself on a rainy evening sipping tea or you can dance yourself to death on such gleaming and overpowering glancing tones but in any which way it keeps you connected to yourself, it is the stairway to the soul, which latter can be reckoned as heaven. This trait of the track, the capacity to let the listener loose himself while possibly raving his senses to it, can be remarkably noted in the Vinaash Mix by Vikram Singh Luthra, a dear friend of mine, who seems more like a gambler at the mixing console of his i.e., Pioneer DDJ-SX . This particular mix of his is heavy and inceptive and abstract at the same time. I remember when I first heard the mix; the part that caught my attention early on in the flow was the transitioning phase at around 16:00-17:00 minutes into it where after the confused moans it goes into an abstract sidelined mode with a dark beat through a warp-hole. This in a way is a warp-hole to one’s dark inner unconscious and awakening, like a light, a driving force, and like diamond cuts diamond, so does evil destroy evil, maybe in order to sustain, maybe in order to dominate, or maybe in order to improve. I ask you, what is the improvement in evil? For evil, it is the negative enforcement of evil, while for the sincere, it is the path towards sincerity, thus in some twisted third world psychological reasoning, evil kills evil, for its own selfish reasons.

 And it is a short dive into heavy raving, something not the common man can withstand. And then it’s back with a better direction. It seems like heavy motors were turning somewhere in the background. The best part as I was pointing above is the self-exploratory nature of this music, it is so much to take at once, that somehow it is taken and still processed and even further it lets one go to yet another higher fugue state where he can be beyond the humanly concerns in a world of opium filled air coming out of blue fluorescent trees that resolve your seemingly mundane issues into thin air as if they never were or will be. Vikram having been one of the first avenues leading me to this audible ecstasy has a great sense of space and time in his music, it reaches a newer dimension with subtlety in all its chaos and the realization comes in a posthumous state, I don’t know but it seems unintentionally political as if it has an Orwellian twist of the future in it, and thus making it a delight. For, we all like a little taste of evil, a little blood! The track becomes a proper hippie’s haven somewhere in the middle, by when you have lost track of things because you are so alerted and engulfed in the pumping beats that you are feeling more than life in them, a dark cloud passes by as the track has been playing for about half an hour and then the creeping hisses take on for a bit. On speaking with Vikram, I realized the derivation of another quality of this track, which is the intended rapture that is mutually induced in the air as the track plays, inspired from the concepts of Aghori Tantrik(Mumbai). The track starts playing tricks with the mind as soon as it hits 160bpm, starting from a 145bpm.

As the man said “Those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who couldn’t hear the music” And somewhere in the background I swear I heard a call out to Parvati and then a twisted form of these legendary words appeared in the sky as someone was sitting on a plastic chair in the cold of a spring late night between the hills, high on more than a few things. “And those who were seen dancing at the rave were thought to be insane by those who couldn’t bear the music”. Sitting on that plastic chair and staring at a star on the dark blue sheets of the night sky there was a whip of golden lava stretching out infinitely to the universe, lashing at every star with every beat and then there were a few glitching twists and more followed, the track has been infused with great unpredictability which again has its rewards, both on the creator and the listener. With all its destructiveness and chaos the track is still amazingly knit together into one piece that maybe well suited for a lonely winter evening. Towards the end, it gets a little more electronic, a little more chaotic, a little more upbeat and little more dark as maybe in lieu of the climax of the final destruction of evil, and then a true vibe for one last time, pure acceleration. Dancing between a 140-155 bpm for quite a while, it ultimately goes to over a 165 bpm burning out the wires of our labyrinthine meshes of our psychology and at the same time exploring a new aspect of the same massively undiscovered psychology. We are oblivious to most of what we are, totally alien to the real selves, like a paranoid android to oneself. And what does a paranoid android do? It keeps looking considering different avenues and perspectives, ultimately hinting to development of some sort, a sort of Darwinian evolution that somehow turns to evil, if not by birth then by circumstances but the dark silver lining is that even in the darkest of those diabolic valleys, an evolution rises.

He also said “Without music, the world would be a mistake”. Oh, the man was right!

P.S Firstly, watch out for the mind blowing album art. Furthermore, this is so dark that when I started writing this I had no idea it was going to be about dark trance, I guess there always is a deeper and darker trance involved.

For those who listen

I’d recommend to repose yourself to a day of dark psychedelic music

 

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