It is right here, in front of me. It speaks to me, breathes through me. It is not well and will not be. Will I ?
We are more than thrilled to present Hiverlucide’s first album premiere in collaboration with Transmissions From the Dark, two days ahead the official release. Listen to the full album :
Non Serviam are, by design, an enigmatic collective. Hints are given here and there that the core band is a duo, other places suggest that even through the allegedly various guests and collaborators, Non Serviam can and should be considered a one-man-band at all times. What is certain though, is that rendering their dense, powerful and multi-layered music live would require about 8 to 10 musicians.
While I would gladly overthrow capitalism if that’s what it takes to witness an actual “Non Serviam Orchestra” performance, what we have here is a slightly different beast, built for direct experience. Whereas describing Non Serviam in a few easy words would range from Black Metal to electro-grind to breakbeats with weirdly arranged choral voice lines, Hiverlucide spans more ambient, field recordings and drone influences. And yet they are two sides of the same coin ; Hiverlucide is the more abstract and improvised extension of Non Serviam, recorded in live conditions.
And as the complexity and pure rage of Non Serviam’s studio craftsmanship instillates turmoil and internal struggle to the listener’s mind, Hiverlucide will put you through other levels of emotional highs… And of mental discomfort.
Whale. I can feel the chants. Wide as the Ocean, wise and compassionate above all else. I hear the bright melancholy of beings so old they transcended any misguided notion of individuality. Something is rising in the distance, carried by the saturated drones. The distant buzzing of structure and matter resonates with me, granting me comfort.
Satan. It is right here, in front of me. Something drops.
It speaks to me.
A fog of white-hot noise rises up as words of power and servitude come out of its mouth. I can understand its language at first, but it slowly shifts into something else. And as the words become unintelligible to me, the hallucinated truths come clearer and clearer.
Death. It breathes through me. The buzzing stopped being compassionate ; it is now assuming control over my mental space. I should not be here.
Here I am, forced to look eyes open wide into something that no one wants to confront.
Have you ever faced someone you know is incurably ill ? Someone you know has to fight symptoms every waking day, someone who, because they won’t have any, will not grant you the reassuring narrative of an expected healing ? If yes, you know the distress of facing the very concrete idea of Death and not knowing what to do or what to say, trapped in your own insignificance.
I don’t feel like I’m ever gonna come down. Cool.
End note : it was not easy to put words on the sensations felt over this album, but the brilliant and bold writing of Sophie Strand helped a lot. Sophie Strand writes about intersectional eco-feminism, about the power of millenary stories, and about her own physical illness. I regard her as one of the greatest writers of her generation and I would suggest to give Satan Death Whale a listen while reading some of her essays like “I do not keep my heart in my body”, “Healing : A Ghost Story” or “I hope you’re feeling better”. All of which are available on her substack.