Key to their lore: they make music that sounds “simplistic and stupid”, however, it comes out of an illiterate chaos gradually taking the shape of a night flier. By angels I mean there are many ways we experience, and we don’t have language for most of it. Angels make distortion, pull out eyes, destroy brains. They can play havoc with emotions, and for behaviour they present a particular form of torture.

To know all this is to know there is an elevation, night lore, a climbing freedom of not knowing that shakes as a paper-made flame. When there is no night, it means that it is summer. I only half believe in fairy tales and that’s why I take responsibility for semi everything but I do slide on an object that’s slightly leaning to another one. Like hay.

Reversed: increase, abundance, superfluity. Hand makes waves, touches brain swamp. Gangsta blues and arising devil rotating forever in the stars.

— Sini Silveri