Lights Of Euphoria
Krieg Gegen Die Maschinen
f, like me, you’ve received a top-notch UK education, you’ll be dimly aware that the title of this album does not translate as “where is the town hall?” Your knowledge will end there. Fortunately, the notoriously excellent homework cheating abilities of Google Translator are on hand to calmly explain that Krieg Gegen Die Maschinen means ‘war against the machines’. That sounds like good news for me, because I can just recycle everything I wrote about the marvellously technophobic Whispering Wall.
Except rather than just being slightly nervous and skittish about our inevitable robot masters, Lights of Euphoria are going all out on the offensive. It’s time for WAR! Grab your flaming torches and head for the Tyrell Corporation! Don’t bring that mate of yours who keeps dreaming about spiders.
This premise suggests exciting possibilities. Could the album be a crudely hewn wedge with which to force open the door of enlightenment? Will we catch the briefest aural glimpse of what it means to be human? How about a cover of Arnee and the Terminators’ “I’ll Be Back”?
No, no and, sadly, no.
I certainly wouldn’t wish to denigrate an entire genre, especially one that I know little about, but there’s a particularly noticeable song structure that lurks in the ‘commercial dance music’ category which appears to have influenced Lights of Euphoria entirely more than could be considered healthy. So much so that they’ve essentially chosen to replicate it thirteen times.
If you fancy writing a track like this for your very own self, why not follow this handy cut-out-and-keep guide? (parental guidance necessary before brutally assaulting your monitor with scissors):
Greetings, I am a cheap and crappy version of “The Manual”Oh, but I’m being unfair. Lights of Euphoria clearly deviate from this mind-meltingly tragic formula by switching the semi-religious lyrical bollocks with semi-gothic nonsense. Also, they have no videos.
1. Create a cool/spooky/awful synthesised opening. Ideally, this will sound sort of like a backwards doppler-effect combined with the sound of a futuristic door from 1950s science fiction. You can fade this in and out as required.
2. Set your bass-fashioning device to doing whether is necessary for it to produce this noise; *UNTZ UNTZ UNTZ UNTZ UNTZ UNTZ* Now leave it alone.
3. Bring in some other spasmodic sounds. Triple-speed owl hoots, or something. Ensure that they are processed to death. If you happen to chance upon some kind of hook, that’s a bonus.
4. Find someone with a suitably large pair of lungs to repeat a pseudo-spiritual phrase over and over and over again. Feel free to use one of these: Set your soul freeeeeeee / Cleanse your miiiiiiind / Energise life goaaaaaals.
5. Find someone with a suitably large pair of tits to sell your video.
Please don’t feel this is any kind of bonus.
If the light that burns twice as bright truly does burn half as long, then this light is disrespectfully dim. And lasts ages. And is rubbish. In fact, it’s not even a light at all; it’s the absence of light.
The absence of light with a tedious soundtrack.