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1968 · Folk ácido ocultista · Álbum completo

Under the
Green Moon

Un ritual de folk ácido ocultista en siete temas, con texturas acústicas, bordones de arco, percusión manual y psicodelia forestal vintage.


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Sobre este álbumLista de cancionesNotas del álbumLetras originales en inglésRecomendado si te gustaLanzamientos relacionados

Sobre este álbum

Under the Green Moon es un descenso de folk ácido ocultista en siete temas, presentado como una grabación perdida de edición privada de 1968. Comienza con una invitación bajo un roble, cruza un círculo ritual y termina después de que el bosque se haya convertido tanto en escenario como en fuerza rectora de la ceremonia.

El sonido permanece arraigado en la guitarra acústica punteada, el autoarpa y el dulcémele, y después incorpora flauta, bordones de arco, armonio, percusión manual y voces superpuestas. Los temas posteriores amplían la paleta con sitar eléctrico, tanpura, Farfisa, bucles de cinta y voces invertidas, pasando de un folk íntimo y espectral a una psicodelia ritual e inestable.

Periodo del archivo: 1968  ·  Publicado:

Lista de canciones

7 temas · 31:04Álbum completo

Notas del álbum

El disco está dispuesto como un paso continuo hacia lo más profundo del bosque. «Oakblood» abre el círculo sin hacer sonar una advertencia: las voces susurradas y las cuerdas acústicas hacen que el primer umbral parezca acogedor. «Mandrake» lleva el ritual al cuerpo, donde las raíces, la tierra y el aliento comienzan a intercambiar sus lugares.

En el centro, «Green Fire» convierte el caldero en una fuente de lento impulso psicodélico. «The Ivy Girl» reduce la narración a fragmentos y voces repetidas, mientras «Black Bell» hace que la ceremonia parezca más antigua y deliberada. Su escueto lenguaje de campana y órgano crea el espacio más austero del álbum.

«Mosspath» se retira brevemente hacia la niebla antes de que su ritual instrumental cobre fuerza. «Blood of the Seeds» abandona después la forma de una canción folk convencional: sitar, Farfisa, bordones, sonajas y voces reproducidas al revés arrastran el tema final hacia una alucinación completa de folk ácido. El álbum no explica el rito. Deja una cadena de imágenes —roble, raíz, llama verde, hiedra, campana, musgo y semilla— y permite que el bosque las conecte.

Letras originales en inglés

Under the oak where the moonlight bleeds
The circle is drawn with the blood of the seeds
Whispers of ravens call out my name
The old ones are waking, they're playing their game
Her hair like the ivy that chokes the stone wall
Eyes full of starlight, she answers the call
Brew in the cauldron, the herbs twist and burn
The veil between worlds starts to tear and turn
Witch's moonlit veil, falling so slow
Take me where the wild spirits go
Through the smoke and the sigh of the ancient trees
Lost in the acid of forgotten dreams
Barefoot on moss where the toadstools glow
She dances in circles that nobody knows
The wind sings a warning, the shadows grow long
The devil's in the details of her pagan song
Powder of mandrake under my tongue
The forest is breathing, the night has begun
Silver bells ringing from branches above
Come join the coven, surrender your love
Witch's moonlit veil, falling so slow
Take me where the wild spirits go
Through the smoke and the sigh of the ancient trees
Lost in the acid of forgotten dreams
Deeper... deeper into the green...
Where the roots entwine what has never been seen...
The moon laughs softly... the fire burns green...
Witch's moonlit veil... drifting away
Into the morning that never sees day
Lost in the acid... of forgotten dreams...
Mandrake under the tongue
Bitter root, black lung
Mandrake under the tongue
The night goes young

I was told not to pull it
When the moon was thin
I was told not to listen
When the root spoke in

But the soil had a mouth
And the mouth had a bell
And the bell rang once
At the bottom of the well

Down, down
The green blood goes
Down, down
Where the old root grows

She cut it with silver
She wrapped it in hair
She laid it beside me
And told me not to stare

But it moved like a finger
In a dead man’s glove
And it sang through the floorboards
Of hunger, not love

Down, down
The green blood goes
Down, down
Where the old root grows

Do not chew
Do not swallow
Let it open
Let it hollow

My feet became branches
My hands became clay
The trees leaned closer
And carried me away

No candle, no doorway
No prayer, no thread
Only the root-song
Blooming in my head

Mandrake, mandrake
Bury me slow
Mandrake, mandrake
Teach me below
I drank from the hollow
I slept in the seed
Now something is growing
Where I used to breathe

Mandrake under the tongue
Bitter root, black lung
Mandrake under the tongue
The night goes young

Do not wake me
If the leaves know my name
Green fire in the iron bowl
Ash on the tongue and smoke in the soul
Three white stones and a lock of hair
Something unseen is standing there

She stirs it once with a willow bone
The flame bends low like it has been shown
No red, no gold, no candlelight
Only green in the mouth of night

Burn low
Burn clean
Open the root
Open the green

The faces blur at the edge of sight
Hands turn pale in the forest light
The trees lean in and the shadows kneel
The fire begins to breathe and feel

Do not name it
Do not feed it
Do not look away

Green fire on the water skin
Green fire crawling out and in
Green fire under every leaf
Green fire underneath my teeth

Burn low
Burn clean
Open the root
Open the green

The smoke writes circles above her head
The living answer for the dead
The bowl is empty
The flame remains
And every voice forgets its name

Green fire
Green fire
Take the night higher
Green fire
Green fire
Crown the briar
Ivy at the doorway
Ivy at the bone
She waits where the black trees lean
She never waits alone

Ivy
Ivy
Bind
Bend

Green hands
Still eyes
Soft mouth
No lies

She knows the path
She knows the root
She knows your name
She knows the fruit

Do not kiss her
Do not follow
Do not sleep
Inside the hollow

Ivy
Ivy
Bind
Bend
A bell rings ooooooooooone
Where no church staaaaaaaands
Cold smoke riiiiiiises
From empty haaaaaaaands

No bird calls ooooooooout
No branch repliiiiiiiies
Only the beeeeeeeell
Between my eeeeeeeeyes

Ring it low
Ring it thin
Let the outside
Come within

Three steps leeeeeeeft
Four steps dooooooown
The roots wear teeeeeeeeth
The moss wears crooooooowns

Do not ask who rings it
Do not ask who hears
The bell was buried
Before your years

Black bell riiiiiiing
Black bell slooooooow
Take me uuuuuuunder
Where roots still groooooow

The bell rings ooooooooooone
The trees bow loooooooow
The path behiiiiiiind
Refuses to shooooooow
Moss on the stones
Mist on the leaves
The path goes under
And nobody leaves

Mosspath
Carry me slow
Mosspath
Where the pale roots go

No bell behind
No fire ahead
Only the green
And the quiet dead

Mosspath
Carry me slow
Mosspath
Where the pale roots go

Do not hurry
Do not speak
The moss remembers
What the living seek

Mosspath
Carry me slow
The seeds are open
The soil is red
Something is growing
Under the dead

Blood of the seeds
Blood of the ground
Blood of the green
Without a sound

I saw the roots
Drink from the moon
I heard the flowers
Sing out of tune

Blood of the seeds
Blood of the ground
Blood of the green
Without a sound

Do not bury them
They bury you
Do not water them
They drink through you

The seeds are open
The night is wide
The forest enters
And stays inside

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