ASDA – The Abyss

The new asda record is here. Packaged in a plastic sleeve venting that familiar, weirdly comforting, wholly unnatural smell of polythene superficially reminiscent of the supplies at the local supermarket. Packed behind the shimmering gloss of the polythene sleeve along with a crumpled receipt, is a picture of lungs: Some would call it 'product', whereas others would call it a 'lifeforce' – either way, these depicted lungs are exhumed and weary, and perhaps this is what what makes it so fitting with the content of 'the abyss' - there is the representation of all the power of life and all the finality of death, summed up in one breathing, slowly dying thing. This is the abyss: it's the beauty and despair of the finish line and all that comes before it: the pain, the anguish and the love... Perhaps the abyss represents endlessness, the experience of total consumption and total creation, like the recycling of life and death in one pure twist and turn. It would be false to say that the latest on NoCorner resembles nothing else - of course it is a product. Every being, every item is a product of something - but the accumulation of dividends here make up something honest, direct and individual. The Abyss is something that can stay for the ages, even if your fridge content has already passed it's sell by date and your clothing is out of fashion. That is what makes this work of music so good, it's not just a slot in the machine, there is 100% personality in asda's latest output. We urge you to check in with the abyss, play it really f*cking loud and consume what's to be consumed. In addition to our sentiments, and in the hope that you're able to take in more words (attention span is going out of fashion in 2016) songwriter Patrick Duff has taken some time to reflect on the abyss, this piece of writing never made it to the press yet, but we'd like to present it to you all here - take a deep breath and continue. Is this the voice of Alexander The Great ? Yes indeed my friends. It is early June in the year 323 BC. Alexander lies dying in the palace of Nebuchadezzar, Babylon aged just 32 years. The conqueror of the known world writhing on a bed of yellow sweat surrounded by his servants and physicians. He has most recently drunk a colossal bowl of unmixed wine. He sees huge rodents the size of dogs bounding out of the walls of his chambers. They carry him outside hoping that the beauty and tranquility of the gardens can soothe their master. Alexander waves them away. Entirely alone in the shade of the olive trees he knows now that he is dying. He can see his death approaching in the form of a gigantic mumbling scream. It is not a death appropriate to a God and Alexander knows this. A blackbird sings from the branches of the tree above him and Alexander stares into the blackness of the black eye of this bird. Hypnotised by the transmission of the song and terrified by the scream as it gathers itself inside him. Terrified ? Yes. Because for the sake of his own legacy he , a God , realises that he must not be heard to scream this anguish. In a desperate act he prays to the blackbird for help to hold in this cry. He implores the songbird who flies down and alights on Alexander's chest. The human God lies weak upon his swollen mattress. The blackbird swallows the scream of anguish into it's own being and flies up into the branches. Alexander blesses the blackbird (and all blackbirds) but nevertheless dies. This scream is carried away silently in the blackbirds lungs . The scream is so deep and of such magnitude that the bird cannot release the sound and it becomes stuck in its throat. The scream although rancid is of such vitality that it has the power to maintain life. The blackbird lives on through thousands of years. However the bird is struck mute until now. Here then is the album of that scream as it appears today. Released finally from the blackbird. This music stuck in the throat of a bird for so long has of course been transformed through the millennium but have no doubt in your mind that this is what you hear in the wizardry of Sebastian Gainsborough. Coupled with the depraved mutterings and anguish of a God. For mark also these words closely when you read them. chester giles is the reincarnation of Alexander the Great. Believe this and you are set free. Remember it is only ever your own limitations that prevent you knowing the truth. Never fear. The poetry you hear is indeed the unedited stifled mumblings of Alexanders true death bed confessions. Hidden till now from the putrid ears of history . The channelled curses of a dying God as he pleads over and over again through his final earthly moments. Listen all you people to this album and weep. This music is more than music. Here is your past and future all at once. Approach with reverence and perhaps even awe. Fall down before Kings. Abandon your profiles and worship anew. The age of Gods is upon us once more.

castillos hinchables