Budapest as Salto Mortale
The third part of LAND's prodigious Trilogy is truly a de-parted part. As Praha and Wien, have accomplished their unique but congenial prophetic mission for fathoming the disastrous event, Budapest stands alone and quite a bit lower, gathering the remained morsels of those two magnums… However, after those impressive eruptions, it stands to reason that in the last city of Oblivion's realm, we rather to expect less orgasmic music. Budapest is the last station of the "Hindering relief of Oblivion" train in realm of an untold missing; the inner-turmoil has been pacified, so you'd better get yourself together and get off from this phantasmal machine before the engine tends to turn up again…
Speaking of the style, Budapest still keeps faith with LAND's peerless and matchless tenet; the way by which LAND evolves the manifest of dominant axiom of Dark-Cinematic-Ambient to its extremes in the best way: Non-visual Hyper-abstract Imagination is on fire…
"53-Dik Levèl" somewhat follows the apocalyptic trace of Wien's epilogue (Monolog der Portraits (Gespräch mit A.R.)); however it accentuates the bitter side of that tragic-but-triumphal sense. Some familiar De-familiarizing clangs covering by delicate minimalistic chords lead to short-dialectal voice which in its turn promises the pure non-militaristic pulses by which the prologue sings its own soliloquium. Here, the notion comes to meet the idea of "Beholding a Departure", but in contrast to that of Wien, here such beholding tends to be an "Accepting a Loss"…
As for LAND, there're layered imaginaries carved deep beneath the accessible surface, and they need repetitive and attentive and loud listening to be grasped for sure (for instance: faint hedonist voices in 1'40"{mark} brings up the delightful side of a alluring past into a gloomy sense of the adverse present.
"Tِprengő Tudَs Beszélni Fog" begins with white noises (noises resemble to "De Gris Figé" in Opuscule). This song is the "Abyss of Darkness" of the album, Collapsing, Downfall, Dispersion, and then flat line…it's entirely an original dark-ambient song, with its own steady grandiloquent beats and overwhelming atmos-fear in which the realm of memorable images are being oppressed. At the end, it turns to dark-noise: The dance of emptiness upon pale kets of memory
after the parade of the macabre…
"Nagy Bànat Kintornàsa": Deep Sorrow! And truly it proves the profound projection of a deep distress! The staggering LANDly beats and the supreme balancing bass which prepares the theme for non-sentimental humanistic but yet traumatic melodic-voice { Although Human-voices in LAND can't be taken as menacing addendum to the musical theme, but these kind of obscurity somehow has been well-engraved in the theme so that it wounds the hearing spirit extremely); the optimistic side of the ear is being slaughtered here (note a silent symptoms in 2'6" mark) , its light is being drained by this amazing sorrowful act of non-human/non-instrument songster... But after the slaughter, in train-station, when the train stops, the lonely ear follows the footsteps while she sings for herself in the Quietness which can never be pacified! One fatal beat of Quietus…
"398. Aprَhirdetés : Utolsَ Talàlkozَ" somehow resembles to "Betrug im Hotel Mariahilf" in Wien; but with no crescendo and no orgasmic caesura; the motif can't come to be the marvel, but accompanied with a effeminate choir which is destined to be dissected in middle of its atonic performative act, this song Insuperably, sacrifice itself for the sake of the end of triptych… Nevertheless undoubtedly it's a good end albeit it could be better, more thrilling; along with fading noise, everything vanished and obliterated while their aura remained on the ear's skin. The inner smile is patterned there… let it be the innermost and unrevealed, or you may be dubbed as a morbid Sadist!
Alike other LAND's oeuvres, Budapest hasn't been made for iconophobes or kenophobes or scotophobes cuz the LAND is about pantophobia! LAND evinces this banned truth {much better than other amnesia- practicers like Anthersteria or Caul or Toroidh}, that why Mnemosyne is the mother of Muses…
