Picture walking through a decommissioned church, filled with artificial fog. A pale blue spotlight illuminates the thick air, and the shadows of tall columns and fixtures are blurred just out of sight. The fellow concert-goers amble around looking just as blurred and wraithlike as you do.
The vast echoing chamber, once a place of holy worship, is filled again with slowly building, drawn out meditative chords reminiscent of Fauré or Saint-Saëns. A voice like a dirge emerges out of the haze, chanting words guttural and formless, that can only imply their meaning with the intonations by which they pierce the air….
By the end of a Sunn O))) concert, not only is your soul utterly destroyed, but your eardrums receive the stigmata.
“Why art thou silent and invisible
Father of jealousy
Why dost thou hide thyself in clouds
From every searching Eye
Why darkness & obscurity
In all thy words & laws
That none dare eat the fruit but from
The wily serpents jaws
Or is it because Secresy
gains females loud applause”
– William Blake