Sirens Of The Sea (Album)

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SOTS001.jpg
Sirens of the Sea
SOTS001.jpg
by OceanLab
Released 21 July 2008
OceanLab chronology
Tri-StateString Module Error: Match not foundString Module Error: Match not found Sirens of the Sea
(2008)
Group Therapy
(2011)Group Therapy2011

Joining Mat Zo's Damage Control & Tritonal's Painting With Dreams, this album is ceaseless seraphic supernova blasts in your ears & soul. This is more acoustical than Tri-State.
It is devastating that not every song in this is properly remixed.
Click here for the remix LP.

Track listing

No.TitleLength
1."Just Listen"3:50
2."Sirens of the Sea"5:56
3."If I Could Fly"5:09
4."Breaking Ties"5:14
5."Miracle"6:43
6."Come Home"4:33
7."On A Good Day"5:57
8."Ashes"6:30
9."I Am What I Am"4:46
10."Lonely Girl"5:32
11."Secret"5:20
12."On the Beach"4:45
13."Breaking Ties" (Flow mix)6:11

Just Listen

This is the spark that sets the inferno. The memorability of each track is not from duration, but innate fulgour. This is consummately conveyed in this in every way colossal prelude of the bacchanalia to come. The hadalpelagic violins, the effulgent vocals, the deathly tune: these are classic Anjunabeats.

Sirens Of The Sea

Every second is fulgurated beyond oneirism. Who can listen & not cry? Arbitrarily highlighted by naming (because the rest of the album is also superb), every yoctosecond is a fierceness that will corrodes the soul. The Wolf-Rayet stelliferous instruments, the suaviloquence oozing with atrament & neuronautical dulciloquence, the ultrahumanity of it all: this completely deserves the title.
Explaining why this is the peak of humankind finally scaled is a difficult job. But I must do it. Although there are different parts, with psychoseismic obliterations when they hit, each part is crushingly ethereal. SOTS starts of small. Lightly flitting & fireworking hard, a darting hoverfly of a musical sintrument delicately & intensely flicks in & out of existence, finding Marianas' inkwells in the space between beats, introducing a tune with the ferocity usually reserved for a climax. Suissa's vocals geminate this mustard seed into a megaredwood, patiently raising the power brick by brick, spinning vocal melodies that I not only care about, but fall into. This is a rare time I recommend memorising the lyrics, so as to fully empower your understanding, immersion, & enjoyment of the song. Belt it.
Take my hand, take my hand, yeah take my hand
Follow me, follow me, yeah let's go
To the sand, to the sand, the purest sand
Into the sea, into the sea, yeah, let's go
Out beyond the water's edge
Far out past the coral ledge
Underneath the diamond dancing lights
Chase the world from far below
Silent sleeping indigo
Drifting down into the endless night
I can not resist your call
I can not resist your call
Take my hand, take my hand, yeah take my hand
Follow me, follow me, yeah, let's go
To the sand, to the sand, the purest sand
Into the sea, into the sea, yeah, let's go
Leaving reason far behind
Nothing here is cruel or kind
Only your desire to set me free
Let us lie here all alone
Worn away like river stone
Let us be the sirens of the sea
I can not resist your call
I can not resist your call
Leaving reason far behind
Nothing here is cruel or kind
Only your desire to set me free
Let us lie here all alone
Worn away like river stone
Let us be the sirens of the sea
I can not resist your call
I can not resist your call
Sirens of the sea.
For the next part, synths make their presence felt. Piercing to the marrow, they paint a Rembrandt's dream with this bony jelly. It's the final subthreads snapping one by one, the scariest precipice of a lead-up in Anjuna history, & that sword is about to hit Damocles' soul.
1:12 is a poison-tipped rapier steamhammered into the lungs. It all falls away & into a toroid black hole sucking in all previous knowledge. 3:08 is another whipcracker, sinking life into a vat of drowning sensation. Waterboarded by quality, SOTS is flavoured further by disbelieving, pleading & pleasing extra sounds in the second climax. It got several remixes & it deserves a lot more. How can anyone outdo this? What a perfect title track for the best album of all human history.

If I Could Fly

Switching gear, this is a more tropical side of inframundane heat! Worsd have not been invented for this, though I may try. There is a fuliginous bridge, & that also escapes even my oceanic vocabulary. But no ocean can drown you enough times to replicate the fatal odyssey that is this heavensend.

Breaking Ties

The guitar, a minimally versatile instrument, can be used well. Here is an example. Without missing a beat, this only furthers the album. Mostly homogeneous, this is especially adhesive to your brain. Incessant proclivities & sentimental vocals form another scintillation.
This is no overrated earworm: the piano ensures that.

Miracle

The refreshingly meaningful lyrics, such as "It's too easy to bow your head & pray", make a nice change from the only other topic found on AB, relationships. Like Green Line, this is subtle, & whereas that has no lyrics, this is closer to that than a protest song, since the instrumentals are paperlight, & the words are vague & unpurposeful. Although this is definitely not one of OceanLab's colossi, I can see why they thought it was too nice to leave off the album. Although I keep expecting to see someone about to comb their hair & then decide that they look fine already, it does make a utilitarian airfiller. Situated on the thrilling side of chillout, Miracle is a deep lesson in thrillout. This song is a concept, & the second best third of it is the dark shifts, as seen at 2:47, spilling a bucket of ink over the light & carefree jaunt that is the base. The main cloudbeat contrasts with the harshly consequential lyrics, but mostly it just wastes my time. This is a surefire wet blanket, especially when SOTS has kalological miracles like On The Beach & Come Home. The best third of this single is the piano found in the climax, the most solidly passionate ingredient, a threat with a smile. This piano is a knife to the main tune's spork, deftly cutting a dainty ambience while spurring a heavy antithesis to the central conceit, beginning low, then falling, then ending up lower than where it started, unlike the sea levels. It really is remarkable that A&B chose their lightest tune for their only serious topic.

Come Home

This is another blockbuster expedition through neurotica. This innovative ecstasy ab initio does to your soul what Google did to searching. Each integrant is a waterfall of carborane acid. Caeli enarrant gloriam Dei.

On A Good Day

There is no end to this album's acmes. It's the Himalayas of albums. In K3, each hiemal trough coruscates in this super-Colossus, from the rotating, heavenising vocals, to the water-clock plinks, to the final quarter of the tune, which challenges the depth, & breaks out strong. The punchy shadows deinsolate the already tearworthy lament, Johnston on high.

Ashes

It's as if someone gathered Rheasilvia, Olympus[1] Mons, Boösaule Montes, Ascraeus Mons, et al & painted them smooth. This is another Everest, emphasis on the hard E, for electrifying. Another proof that drugs are unnecessary for psychonautics, this is another inevaluable tragedy of the remixless.

I Am What I Am

It's a red carpet of eidola. Perceptibly the slowest song of SOTS by far, this is no exception to the procession of successes. SOTS has none.
This one, despite its somniferous style, is resplendent enough to triturate the air it is carried on.

Lonely Girl

The most electronic song from the seraph's hymnbook is an antimony pentafluoride fountain; a brazen bull[2] of burning umbriferous profluence that spares no nanosecond of epiphany. The sole SOTS song with an intro & outro, the electricness is hyperabundant in every sense. At one point in this Sillas, a one-time melodic descent plummets & crashes through your heart. Fluvial ascension also exospheres this wonderpiece.
The climax transliterates the orgasm. Bridges in climaxes are a nectareous idea.

Secret

Songs of this album are dualist: they are made of two unrelated songs jammed together without respect for concordance or sense. That doesn't dim the magnitude of Secret, though, because this penultimate pulchritude bestows a Promethean, igniferous upon humanity. Tragically, it is repeatedly defiled & brutalised by an inferior mess that doesn't even begin to enter the same galaxy as the opening tune. However, once the floodgates of atrament are netherlanded at 2:54, it begins a climactic[3] journey that eventuates in violin ingravescence. It holds not one spark to the infinitely calescent eta carinae deluxe that plays from the beginning to 1:23, & 1:58-2:54. So hot, yet so dark.

On The Beach

Any of these could have been used to close. Nevertheless, this eo nomine concluder is the sonification of the coast of northern Western Australia. The beginning interlaces brief ambient travel noise with introductory singing. & it never stops layering of the engastration of whale shark upon basking shark upon Greenland shark upon beluga (sturgeon) upon[4] great white. With a dash of octopus, there's nothing more to be asked for in this platter of aligerous bullions.
OTB is a fitting bow upon this Polyhymnian dispensation.

Breaking Ties (Flow Mix)

The de facto closer is a lethal chillout mix oozing with atrament & originality. The slow tempo kills nothing but stolidness. The fall from the crest to the trough can kill. It ends with 50 seconds of wave-like noise. It is monumental.