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Lazarus Denied

by SALQIU

supported by
Jordan Vauvert
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Jordan Vauvert Il est facile d'évoquer la mort dans le black metal, genre en opposition : cette thématique y est une base par essence ; y trouver une réflexion mature et philosophique est déjà beaucoup plus rare. Salqiu prend cette réflexion à bras le corps dans Lazarus Denied et nous fait voir l'éternité à travers les pensées d'un squelette piégé dans un ossuaire. Son black metal, finement construit, joue la carte d'un univers gothique extraordinaire (surtout sur les parties II et V). Salqiu ne déçoit jamais. Favorite track: Part V - These Walls Are Eternal.
Umbra Cornuta
Umbra Cornuta  thumbnail
Umbra Cornuta Indisputably, a testimony of a genius mind! From concept, to lyrics, to voice and instrumental rendering, this stands as a dark, forceful visionary perspective. All those intricate layers of pure rawness, knitted so naturally, like spiderwebs...you're shrouded and dragged into tenebrous places and you don't even want to fight against. Let this devour you! Favorite track: Part III - The Unwanted Enlightenment.
Turd Ferguson
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Turd Ferguson This album is the aural equivalent of making sweet love to a really hot demon while it disembowels you and drags your soul to Hell. 9/10. Will listen again. Favorite track: Part II - My Mind A Sea Of Smoke.
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1.
We are creatures lurking in the dark, Performing deeds unholy In this holy place Perfect as the nature that we impose ourselves intrinsically    These essences - proximal to Mysticism – are just beyond the reach of shallow darkness.  They belong to the laws that rule over us: cruel, lavishing,and poisonous as everything really is. Nos Ossos que aqui estamos, pelos vossos esperamos And we experience the shuteye for one flash of blinding perplexity. The cruel reality of existence is at the grasp of our understanding, yet so fathomless, so incomprehensible. Seems the crudeness of it’s purpose is beauty? But what is it really? Suddenly I feel like glimpsing through past anguish! As hollowed-out by my inner flashes of reason.   Aonde vais,caminhante, acelerado? Pára…não prossigas mais avante; Negócio,não tens mais importante, Do que este, à tua vista apresentado. Recorda quantos desta vida tem passado, Reflete em que terás fim semelhante, Que para meditar causa é bastante Terem todos mais nisto parado. Pondera,que influído d'essa sorte, Entre negociações do mundo tantas, Tão pouco consideras na morte; Porém, se os olhos aqui levantas, Pára…porque em negócio deste porte, Quanto mais tu parares, mais adiantas. I linger, still - recalling those pure and perfect hours. I am darker, but have I become kinder or more discourteous? I have opened to the oceans, to the world and to the stars, putting to rest those remnant stems upraised & eager to perpetuate their own naive nature We are creatures lurking in the dark,Performing deeds unholy In this holy place Perfect as the nature that we impose ourselves intrinsically   These essences - proximal to Mysticism – are just beyond the reach of shallow darkness. 
2.
As caveiras descarnadas São a minha companhia, Trago-as de noite e de dia Na memória retratadas Muitas foram respeitadas No mundo por seus talentos, E outros vãos ornamentos, Que serviram à vaidade, E talvez…na eternidade Sejam causa de seus tormentos. I try to toss/turn/undulate spasmodically when confronted by a cause, or blaze!  I have been repulsed by any lack of confidence - any lie in heart - any failure in answering those pine & prime riddles which hide beneath damp soil or within traditions that may have always had the answers - of which I still, and likely cannot ever know.  As vacant Cathedral organs jotting annihilation inside my soul – like chasing incantations unknown to me until overcome by yawning & heartache - I wake, still in dreamlike state I wonder of perhaps the perilous Chapel that beckons me and that farther horizon are at once the same place. My trial – the choice between Paradise and Paradise Lost. I experience the rippling light in water balancing my mind, a sea of smoke. As I experience the godlike peace of slowly drowning in-between sacred bodies. As vacant Cathedral organs jotting annihilation inside my soul – like chasing incantations unknown to me until overcome by yawning & heartache - I wake, still in dreamlike state
3.
Folded soft dreams or these white fangs glowing ravenously – what is my primordial complexion? Is swiftness or delirium? – These impressions of Saturn tarnishing your lips – the ultimate temptation – the disguised black mental howls - the softness of your flesh is now stone in somber awareness. That bottomless pit I fall for eternity. ...I bid farewell to the Holy Mountain of your being as I contemplate alone - in a night terror that is also transfiguring - a terror only possible when felt from great distance and height, now exponentially taller than the quivering Mountain of touchable holiness - yet sensing its entire weight crack against the sky like music displaces rain and love shudders memory. I am one with the dark clouds that mold the night sky. And I do not pour down…I drift in the heights of my displacement. I do not know, I do not physically feel anymore…this numbness is whole. I am the whole numbness of existence. A servidão devora a pele azeda, definha sobre nossos órgãos expostos e os apaga em um banquete de vermes? A servidão serve a nossa nudez de marfim como um banquete para as gerações vindouras, condenando nossa nudez absoluta para a eternidade? A servidão comanda os vermes,as moscas, os seres que apagaram nossas feições, para que nossos restos de ossos se amontoem em grandes quantidades para seu maior louvor? Porquê? Foda-se, porquê?   Night Chapel / Mercurial infinite of black-ribbon silk returning, the bindings of a separate cosmology - tethered within our own, a Prima Materia -disheveling the womb of our decadent casket Mother The marks we left behind us are long forgotten in my grotesque anonymity! I have become an opening to all others - a gate of gates – the destiny in bloodless and fleshless ivory. That proud God on the altar, the gardener prepares for Empyrean, while I will endure the waiting for the never coming consecration! Bring me salvation ! bring me fire ! bring me the disruptive forces of nature to crumble down this stockade Or remake me to make myself whole again. As poignantly and sincerely as others can be themselves. Scrutinized by the graceful specters passing by, hideaways, climates doused in hungry fog. They collect mementos of my offering to the realm of chaos. Ironia divina na morte Porque estou morto E condenado ao inferno na Casa do Senhor Condenado a definhar na Capela dos Ossos   And they imagine timid projections of those once existent, dancing beneath the New Moon. Little do they know that’s only an animistic supper for fresh senses& sweetness, youthful flesh in mist - Earthly appetites so easily satisfied to consign to oblivion the real suffering of those encrusted…like me
4.
Este é o dia. Esta é a hora, este o momento, isto é quem somos, e é tudo. Perene flui a interminável hora que nos confessa nulos. No mesmo hausto em que vivemos, morreremos. Colhe o dia, porque és ele   Tudo quanto vive, vive porque muda; muda porque passa; e, porque passa, morre. Tudo quanto vive perpetuamente se torna outra coisa, constantemente se nega, se furta à vida If I am aware, my awareness of the fire suggests power! Stumbling upon Bonehouse Havens where candelabrum multitudes and daylight windows brightly eclipse any exits (is there another space other than this I dwell in?) It seems other states of being have existed, with the presence of music filling the lobbies of my past life with fluttering commotion.  Mirrors speculate about the contemplation of other realities long gone. These walls mitigate poetry, replacing it with mumbled awe and tinkled horror. Repetitions - harmony upon harmony whistling wall to wall I see birds in lulled imagination, escaping free through the windows as they flee our fixed tension points. Freedom fissures in the clouds they orbit - Mourning our stranding, singing their privilege of mastering their magisterial ladders.  They grasp their release, we strand on our prison. Textures flattering the fires that burn within As we plea exemption  to the shining godhead on the pedestal Mourning who makes right the wrongs of our thoughts, as nothing can be hidden in the omniscient eye of that statue that imprisons us as their religious advocators. We strand unhidden, naked, obscene and polished, eaten, and heathen.
5.
Here I lay in the dead of night, meditating about the nothing, about the everything, about the void, And often I sense this stranger's face there with me. It has no body, it has no soul. Without a body – without a spirit and still a presence It observes me and I don’t know why or what does it see. It’s the shape of silence. It is silence embodied in nothingness. A servidão que eu nunca quis, foi imposta a mim pelos servos vivos de uma divindade que deveria nos servir a paz graciosa depois que partirmos? A promessa de descanso eterno quebrada em cada olhar, em cada momento desta fixada ostentação. A morada exposta, a carne ausente, a demente saciedade mórbida num tormento sem fim…sem sossego O destino, enfim, revelado em angustiante quebranto. Em perpétuo escaparate. Yet strangely burns, shivers, incarnates parts of my levitating awareness scorching it, devouring it. Like the cleansing of fire does while easing away the cold flames. And cold fills the room in secrecy again - we are at last whole with nothing And in this moment - equality forms – the whole, the nothing and everything in between A deafening trumpet calls out for those last wandering strands of consciousness - which, at varying speeds and distances - find their way through the fog and towards the silence They vanish I vanish, denied Like a denied Lazarus, I shall not rise from these cemented bones. Clustered within the walls of the chapel that exposes me to the world…

about

To the "Order Ov The Black Arts"
To the "The DisOrder: Blackened Colosseum ov Chaos"


ENTER THE CHAMBERS OF THE "CAPELA DOS OSSOS (Chapel of Bones)", and look closely....one of those bones in the wall, in display, trapped...could be you...

This is a concept album about the soul of one of the bones exposed for eternity in the "Capela dos Ossos", located in Évora, Portugal.

It's about his thoughts, his realization of his condition and his revolt.

The Portuguese parts include poems that are exposed in the walls of the Chapel, personal poems and poems from Fernando Pessoa.

This album, like any other SALQIU release, aims to something intangible...it's all about that moment in time where I seat in my studio and create. Nothing less, nothing more...Elysium.

Love it or hate it, this is the 6th full length from SALQIU. And I now (un)rest.

Apart from Part III, which was previously released as a single entitled "Aproximação do Terror" and was revamped for this album (I always wanted to have it on a full length), all other tracks were recorded in the blink of an eye (one week, more or less) and all vocals were done at first take...I did not re-record a single vocal passage, therefore the occasional misspellings.
Also, no mix, no production, no shit...just feel and vibe!

"In a way, Salqiu works just like those basement Raw One-Man Black Metal projects, releasing demos recorded in just a couple of days with scarce equipment and just the love for throwing out the inner rage that dwells within...the difference is that Salqiu does it with a more avantgarde approach, but the mindset is very similar...ah, and the covers artwork are normally more colorful"

credits

released March 20, 2021

Nuno Lourenço - everything

With:
Paulo Chagas (Zpoluras) - flute on Part I & Part V
Matthew Murray-Evans (Planet Epiphany) - acoustic guitar on Parts IV & V

Church Organ sample on Part V - Saint-Saëns "Danse Macabre"

This album has a Godmother: Joanna Barańska.
Eternal gratitude to her! She was the curator, advisor, patient company and the only person that was always there for me, even if 8.500 kms away.

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SALQIU PE, Brazil

A mysterious entity swallowing the light into the darkest abyss, marching mechanically into the realms of Salqiu, the most obscure Lusitanian Warrior God of the Dead and the Underworld...

there is a Cosmos in the Underworld. A Dark, obscure aura that must be unveiled...
... more

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