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Self

by Terzij de Horde

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Darknight
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Darknight Self is stunning post black metal with darkness coursing through it but at the same time the music is uplifting. The intensity is so powerful and one listen you will be hooked. Favorite track: A Marriage of Flesh and Air.
XUL//EXCELSI
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XUL//EXCELSI 'n Hardcore Black metal stoomtrein van byna mistieke ekstase a la Cara Neir, maar met 'n siel al sy eie. Liries stoei dit met die voortbestaan van die selfbewussyn te midde vuis-omhoog refreine van uitdagende riffs wat bou sonder plateau. Die klankbaan van self-openbaring tot self-ontrafeling. --L.D Favorite track: Averoas.
Lennaert Huijing
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Lennaert Huijing So, this type of music is quite dark, but in itself is very uplifting. Can it be the intensity? If so, why does not all metal makes you feel like this, i.e. energetic without the agression... There's other bands out there in the same style, but none use Dutch poets...
Peter van der Ploeg
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Peter van der Ploeg Black metal without unnecessary decorations. They stand above the rest with thoughtfull, life affirming music and literary lyrics. Self hurts a little, and is beautiful. One of the absolute best records of 2015. Favorite track: Absence.
MarinusJ
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MarinusJ Koopt Hollandsche waar, dan helpen wij elkaar! Metal met inspiratie van Marsman. Hopelijk beginnen ze ooit nog eens aan JC Bloem. Euthanasia, De Gestorvenen, Het Portret lijken geknipt voor doemig overleden metaal.
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1.
Absence 07:47
Absence When the living subverts When it is a truth in itself When there is no higher purpose than to be To dischord this common Word To a seething mass of dread To embrace this darkened ecstasy When there is no higher purpose than to be To dischord this common Word The rage of the damned and persecuted Their seeing eyes as trophies for a sightless throne Building and smoldering with violent promise Like claws set to rend a deathly reality Like a blade forged to split a hateful unity This war bursts forth from mouths of flame Shattered teeth, soaring words, hell untamed To crucify the sanctity of suffering forever To carve a nihill for this false abyss Artifice devoured A silent inward gasp Exorcise the world spirit All that is ancient and crooked So that light can burst forth in its absence A thousand secret springs of wildfire For the daemon champions of this earth A thousand secret springs of wildfire For the daemon champions of this earth To compete for such divinity A phantasmagorical emanation A man-made sphere of inclusion and exile To compete for such divinity A phantasmagorical revelation A mandrake root which burgeons and crawls Fear turns the thorns inward Spectral spires and pits De profundis, the deception calls Aeons’ shadow values Raised on power and fear When the living subverts When it is a truth in itself When there is no higher purpose than to be To dischord this common Word To a seething mass of dread To embrace this darkened ecstasy When there is no higher purpose than to be To dischord this common Word Trample this dire deity, this broken entity Of lust, dread, awe A loss of life, a defiant triumph. Vengeance a duty, a protection to mar Vengeance
2.
A Marriage of Flesh and Air A conjured creation in knots and bones in a pounding of fragments, a rupture of stones As in death we dance, we crawl through this As in death we dance, we stumble amiss Jilt and jitter to an ending of worlds where our hearts will either break or bronze Dervish twirling to horizons uncared in dances ferocia anima downstared Wingless and withered but raging alive The dueling dischord just magnifies The rhythms of rendering rhymes with which we vengeful gods destroy the hive Celebrate the marriage of flesh and air Faceted eyes see all but none Guided by the grasp of drones A crawling chaos , follow the horde Carry the void toward its throne Throw away the anchors, the steadfast, the light and tell of that which you see in the dark A shared immersion in blood and cadence A syncopic structure of stabbing sparks Come dance in the flames of a world to reveal Come dance in the fire of a world brought to heel Whirling and weakened but wasted no more This flame rekindles the embers of a once before A cessation of life extinguished by a forging flood A time anon, born from the ashes of brine and blood Come dance in the flames of a world to reveal Come dance in the fire of a world brought to heel Ripping the fabric in strands tied to naught To bear the raging worlds within Through the ruined gasp that surrounds a seething silence forced to whims, the impulse of passion, impetus’ charm this is a vowel of encompassing harm of cathartic deliverance through purging blaze, through shedding the shells of this suffocate haze Jilt and jitter to a beginning of worlds where our hearts will either break or bronze
3.
Averoas 08:53
Averoas Dragging feet on paths uncarved I am the beacon of fault Sinews and raven's cloak You mock me? Ah, ye would. Omnipresent preaching of precepts, good spells, godspeed you, fallen ones. A sole symbol this corpse A race conscious enough to know it is vile, intelligent enough to know it is insignificant. These are the bitterest of mockeries: Pain is not an evil; Death is not a separation; Sickness is but a blessing in disguise. Weary and weak I make my way home Collapsing under entropy this specter of universal death sits among the guests at every feast It lies in bed with all the lovers. Omnipresent preaching of precepts, good spells, godspeed you, fallen ones. I have wandered to find him. Stared at abysses before which thought must be silent for fear of going mad must be silent for fear of becoming naught What is this shame in ignorance? Is it not a duty? Am I searching for the second coming, the adjacent advent? Or am I clutching at this imposed immortality? This taste of death I yearn for, I tarry behind, what is that to thee? Omnipresent preaching of precepts, good spells, godspeed you, fallen one. This taste of death I yearn for, I tarry behind, what is that to thee?
4.
Contre le Monde, Contre la Vie 'What may this fluorescent pageant mean? Who can the evanescent object glean? He that is dead is the key of Life— Gone is the symbol, deep is the grave!' To those of us for whom Sight has meant seeing abysses The waking world has been an insult Our instinct has always been To turn inward and turn away From the life of the polis Turn inward To horrors more gloriously vibrant Beyond vistas of fabrication Where wars of psyche and shadow Devour and deform and give birth There, under our own raging skies The breath of Moloch torn away We were free and wild as the ancients We have been the shadows of this age Our dreams crawled like pioneer weeds On the trail of new death 'Man is a breath, and Life is the fire; Birth is death, and silence the choir. Wrest from the aeons the heart of gold! Tear from the fabric the threads that are old!'
5.
Geryon – See Extinguished the Sight of Everything but the Monster Carry on, and avoid the pains of looking inward and seeing how I've been obtained Carry on, and cherish this power, these remnants of pride that have remained To know whom I belong to Is to know what moves my hand I have taken a high seat among the devils of the land Thus I spake: If not me, who then? If not me, how then? So it must be. So it will be. Beyond the bounds of permitted aspirations History claws upward Below the ringing of noble discourse Fate devours the world And so, pattern and plague, It claws through me And so shapes the reach Of my dreams So it will be So it has always been I have gone into the lands of torment And within the pale of exclusion I held a banquet For the elevation of the self Hells exposed and tamed Into hierarchies of fear Accepted I create distance and division Pardoned I am cloaked by circumstance Esquired I give in and let go
6.
Sacrifice – A Final Paroxysm What resolve remains to me When nothing survives and nothing suffices When doubt has broken all horizons But to extend will Beyond will’s capacity To cast off The corpse of lies Through sacrifice, to hidden grounds My means to probe the self Are careful, violent, final Long shuttered life Now shudders and trembles With boundless, groundless desire For plethora, openness, disorder This is the antithesis of ritual Put an end to sin, if sin there is To expiation, if expiation there is Reeling toward onrushing crisis Toward willed annihilation No vain flight on wax wings But a leap to end all faith Through sacrifice, to gateless gates My means to probe the self Are careful, violent, final The creature, the traveller, is torn apart Opened, turned outward toward death Its thinking deranged and outraged Its seamless garment rent A corpse of lies Cast off Opened, turned outward toward death Deranged and outraged The seamless garment rent A final paroxysm, The birth of sight

about

The album focuses on the problem of self. Six tracks explore different ways to live, or fail to live, with self and world. They embody the struggles these paths and strategies create: blindness, suffering, a desire for release, the destruction of self and others as well as the turning towards -or away from- life.

Self as prison, self as a source of power, self as vessel for manipulation by outside forces, self as shield and as inner world, self as medium for Dionysian rapture, self as something to be overcome.

In the six songs that constitute ‘Self’, the rage of black metal is paired with a cathartic destruction as well as a contemplative, sometimes crawling melancholy. Instead of navel gazing or the worship of constructs, ‘Self’ is analysis forced. A cerebral celebration of liberation at all costs and a requiem for spheres rendered apart.

The artwork of ‘Self’ depicts ants, consumed by Ophiocordyceps. These parasitic fungi appropriate the brains of whichever host they infect, to manipulate and effectively destroy its self-regulating features. Through this annexation, the ants become empty shells of what they once were, governed by a destruction from within, imposed and irreconcilable.

credits

released October 19, 2015

All songs and lyrics by Terzij de Horde
Recorded in February and March 2015 at Studio Independent Recordings, Utrecht (NL)
Recorded and mixed by Quintijn Verhoef
Mastered by James Plotkin

Photographs by Dr. Charissa de Bekker
Artwork by Richard

Released by
LP: Burning World Records
CD: Consouling Sounds
CS: Tartarus Records

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Terzij de Horde Utrecht, Netherlands

Terzij de Horde combine an amalgam of progressive black and doom metal with a rawness reminiscent of extreme hardcore or chaotic screamo.

Terzij de Horde is Dutch for “athwart the horde”. It is a line from the poem “Einde” (ending) by legendary Dutch poet Hendrik Marsman. Marsman is an inspiration to the band, as are many other authors and philosophers in the same dark vitalistic vein.
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