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 С моей точки зрения это лучший релиз неоднозначных и эпатажных поляков. Он сочинен и записан в классическом составе - человек-оркестр Даркен, барабанщик Каприкорнус и басист Каркарот. В те времена в польском андерграунде еще царили сплоченность и взаимоподдержка. О будущем переходе Грейвланд в стан язычества еще нет и речи, в идеологии музыкантов Сатанизм и нелюдимость. Еще очень далеко до проблем и потрясений внутри команды в результате того, что на Каркарота наехала полиция и он стал немилосердно стучать на андерграунд, в результате чего и был вышвырнут из команды и заклеймен как предатель вплоть до начала третьего тысячелетия. Еще далеко до раскола между Грейвланд и Бегемот, который привел к разобщенности в польском андерграунде и разделению его на два непримиримых лагеря. В общем, «Кельтская Зима» - это осколок славных времен польского подполья, времен, которые, похоже, ушли навсегда.
Релиз получился весьма впечатляющим. Классический Грейвланд сатанинского периода. Неспешные траурно-тоскливые композиции с глубоким и объемным клавишным бекграундом. Даркен имеет редкий дар нагнетать простым и незатейливым топтанием клавиш действительно мрачную потустороннюю атмосферу. Браво! Композиции базируются на двух-трех риффах, которые буквально дышат духом Черного Металла девяностых. Немного наивно и анахронично, но искренне и по-своему захватывающе. Ритм секция в лице Каприкорнуса и Каркарота проста и незатейлива до умиления. Каприкорнус, бесспорно, один из самых неумелых барабанщиков в Черном Металле. Лениво так лупит себе без всякой фантазии и изысков и все тут. Каркарот вообще откровенно схалтурил и просто отчесал басовые партии вслед за гитарой Даркена. Хотя, стоит признать, что в целом такой безалаберный подход ритм секции не портит общей картины. Даже наоборот, придает некий шарм подлинной андерграундности. Необходимо выделить и два клавишных инструментала – мрачно, гнетуще, величественно.
В целом, работу слушать интресно. Особенно рекомендуется тем, кто ностальгирует по подполью девяностых. Или тем, кто тоскует по тому, какими они сами были в девяностых. |
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All for the honest masters
Lords of the black forest
Rulers of Night and Darkness
Gods of the ancient (aryan) Europe
Pagan winds of distant North
The might of unholy Norvay's forest
is in you
Cold gloom and power
True Evil and good
Give us what are we waiting for the
millenium
And soon the Cromleches
will be full of christian blood!
We will kill in the moonshine
We will become the killers,
shadows of each christian
Their temples will be covered by blood
We will destroy their altars
We will turs into ashes their graves
For burned witches
For lost beliefe and might
For Pagan and Heretic's blood
For trees and forest of killed Druids
For our lost gods...
2. Hordes Of Empire
Thousand of fallen angels
Rows of condamned souls
Black riders of abyss
Beast of haired and cruelty
We arrive on the chariots of fire
We sign our way by the fire and death
Sun of Darkness leads us
Everlasting lust of sin
Hands ot the dead beat the kettle-drums
Damned sound of black trumpets
Tramp of horrified horses
and sinister knocking of Devil's hooves
Red, fiery eyes
fangs, claws and fire from the mouth
Mayhemed wings, bleeding in fight
Cobweb in hair and wind...
We kill, crush, burn
We trace the escaping day
and hideous condemned sun
At everlasting war
between light and Darkness
Creators of night-Gods of Darkness
They buried us alive
They killed our feelings
Now we are the same
We come with nocturnal wind
and red, bloody fog
Black banners with effigy of him
Red flags-hues of hell
Hordes of cruelty and chaos
Emperor of unlife's forces
3. The Night Of Fullmoon
Pagan country in the moonlight
Witches calling for their lord
Incantation of the Dark Side
From the book of secret world
Scream breaks off nocturnal silence
They begin the rite of Darkness
Hill in the fog
The heart of wood
Altagar of gloom
Nocturnal rite
Knife in the hand
Worship Darkside
Bless Left Hand Path
Pagan hidden in the forest
In unholy common grave
Christians killed the last worshipper
But the Dark Cult is still living
I'm the son of Pagan Nation
I got a part of secret knowledge
Oh Lord, I kneel before Thee
Darkness and Evil showed me thy return
I'm still waiting for thy return
The ancient Cult will arise again
Here comes the God of war and pain...
4. The Gates To The Kingdom Of Darkness
I came, led by the stars
Spirits of the damned draw me near
Mayhemed winds showed me the way
And now i stay here, born from the wolf
Scream of pain sounds in Darkness
I draw my claws in wall of fog
I scrape, scream, blood covered my scars
my fangs tear the gates to Abyss
Impure spirits, you showed me the way
And now my blood becomes the key
I open this last gate
The Gate to the Kingdom of Darkness
Black wind of the dead
Inflamed my eyes to red
My brothers, wolves, servants of the night
They came from the forest
Burning eyes among the Darkness
Jaws thirsty for the blood, raised to moon
Hired, longing and fear
This is the last night and the dawn will never come
Curse me, my brothers
Because I lead you to death
Salvation for mayhemed souls
Souls of sons of the night in wolves bodies
We've been always and we'll be forever
Tonight we'll die and the next night
we will come from beyond the gates
of Kingdom of Darkness
Gods of Darkness, awoken by our sacrifice
Beast of gloom, spirits of fear
Triumph of unlife's Powers
Banners of the dead smeared in blood!
Black is the ultimate colour
Darkness is the only end
Evil is the right reaction
Death is the only mercy...
5. The Celtic Winter
In Celtic Winter wolves wear the white garments...
In Celtic Winter the weak hearts die...
In Celtic Winter hunger tears human bowles...
In Celtic Winter time slowly elapses...
When the cold comes, hatred burning in your heart will be the only heat.
When the darkness comes, burning hamlet's shining flames will be the only light.
When the hunger comes, spilled blood of your enemy will be the only food.
When the death comes, be proud and figth bravely, and then die quickly.
Our true gods haven't left us, the time of their return comes...
With the sound of war-trumpets we will go at their side into the great battle...
Many of us will die, but no one of us thinks about death in this time...
It was worth to be born just to die in such a battle...
Everything else is not important, the meaning of life doesn't mean everlasting satisfaction
of your empty lusts...
When the dark clouds in the sky, full of black ravens and their sinister croaking, appoint
the time of great trial, the time of great struggle, each man takes his sword and target in his
hands and goes into the place where sounds of horns call him...
Nobody will spare his blood, when on the battlefield messenger of gods leads us...
6. The Return Of Funeral Winds
Cold winds bring me the memories
Dark feelings arise in my wind
I remember when I was watching
In your mystic red eyes, master !
I remember when you gave me this secret
and I got eternal immortality
We were drinking human blood
We became the Dark Evil beast
Like the spirits without bodies
We were flying in the sky
Our hearts we've lost in dust
Then other dimension invited us !
EVIL - it sounds like nocturnal howling
of wolves thirsty for the blood
Darkness - it looks like an ultimate
form of everlasting night
BLOOD - it tastes like a wine
from the blackest grapes of sin
And I known the final destiny
I saw the dark gates of graveland
So I entered the world of Darkness
Where the sun has died in the past
Walking by the path of another world
I kiss the magical Arcan...
And now we are the same again
with my Great - Master - Baphomet !
I used the Powers of Darkness
for my spiritual rebirth
Light of Lucifer inflamed my way
So I'll be back like funeral wind...