Friday 6 November 2009

Pocahaunted - Peyote Road


Artist
Pocahaunted
Label Woodsist
Year 2008
Genre(s) Drone


So there you are, sitting in your tent smoking your peace pipe. What's that beautiful siren song? Has Elizabeth Frazer decided to run wild under the cool night sky? There are drums somewhere as well. This is all very interesting, time to get moving, this is a chance too good to miss. Best take the peace pipe, it can only accentuate this feeling you have. Wandering across desert plains, surely there was forest here before? You can't recall. The beautiful wail permeates your ears, forces your brain to walk onwards, the sand stays cool beneath your feet as you dip and rise on these dunes. Turn around and drink in the dying embers of the fire, the need for warmth is long gone. It's so serene here, and she draws you ever forward. The sticky canvas is but a distant memory, how long have you been walking now? Hours, days even? It doesn't matter, you'll happily walk forever to find the night siren that chants this incantation. Aloft on the sand, shimmering under moonlight, this could be heaven. Heading forever towards an oasis so you may drink her in. The muse, the light, the everything. The voice has stopped, it feels cold now, lost in a desert and almost swimming to stay atop the sand. The drums remain, a cruel taunting mimic of your footsteps, covered by sand. Slowly the song returns, slowly you warm again. It's urgent now to reach her, night will be over soon. She's still calling you, and the oasis is in sight.

As you arrive at the moonlit oasis you can see figures moving around a burning fire. Shadows dance long on the sand, swirling into one another. The song stops and you're alone. The fire dying and leaving you with darkness and your thoughts. You sit, running your hands through the sand and feeling every grain drop through your fingers. The moon is hiding behind a dense cloud and darkness enshrouds everything. Something is touching your shoulder, damp and cold. Try not to make any sudden move, try to be calm. There's something else here, you shouldn't be here. The song resumes, darker now. A warning coming too late, it now only fills you with dread. Shrieking close to your ear, and the fire jumps as a Phoenix, filling the night with sharp shadows. Veiled in black two figures dance, sharing shrieks and moving with detached spasms. For all the fear, all the discomfort you're enthralled. A freezing wind blows, edge closer to the fire now. The sand shifting as you do so, becoming rock hard and uncomfortable. There is nothing you can do now but watch the grim ballet that is occurring before you and hope that morning will come. The chanting becomes more coherent again, the fire dying to final embers once more. It will be morning soon.

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