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The Purple Sun Is Watching est un album complet fictif de rock psychédélique de 1968 signé RetroForge Records, construit autour du son et de l’atmosphère du rock acide underground de la fin des années 1960. L’album réunit sitar tournoyant, guitare fuzz, orgue Hammond, Farfisa, Mellotron, guitare douze cordes, basse analogique palpitante, tabla, flûte, tambourin, batterie vintage et chant baigné de rêve.
La production privilégie une texture analogique chaleureuse : boucles de bande inversées, écho à bande, réverbération à ressort, phasing prononcé, flanger, mouvements stéréo et couches psychédéliques distordues. Le résultat n’est pas un disque de rock linéaire, mais une suite de rêves sous acide en perpétuelle mutation, où chaque titre change de forme au lieu de répéter le même schéma couplet-refrain.
Au fil de ses sept titres, l’album passe du voyage initial d’Into the Purple Sun aux hallucinations d’oiseaux de verre, aux mantras lunaires proches du raga, à une brève déflagration garage psych, à un rituel parlé, à un folk psychédélique lumineux, puis à une suite cosmique finale où l’identité se dissout dans le son. Il s’adresse aux auditeurs qui aiment les voyages à l’échelle d’un album, les images surréalistes, les instruments vintage et les récits psychédéliques immersifs.
Dans les archives de RetroForge Records, The Purple Sun Is Watching appartient au versant psychédélique des années 1960 : coloré, étrange, analogique et immersif, conçu comme un artefact perdu de rock acide provenant d’une autre chronologie.
Année d’archive : 1968 · Publié :
Liste des titres
- 1Into the Purple Sun5:57
- 2Glass Birds Above the Bed4:19
- 3The Moon Drinks from My Hands Mantra5:19
- 4Electric Serpent Parade2:29
- 5Cathedral of Smoke5:29
- 6Flowers Growing Through My Eyes5:11
- 7When the Universe Forgets Your Name5:53
Notes d’archive
Le soleil violet a ouvert son œil.
Sous son regard, des horloges fondent dans le ciel, des oiseaux de verre tournent au-dessus de corps endormis et des serpents électriques rampent dans des rues qui ne mènent plus nulle part. La lune boit dans des mains humaines. Des fleurs poussent vers l’intérieur à travers les yeux. Au-delà de la dernière route se dresse une cathédrale entièrement bâtie de fumée.
L’album suit un voyageur à travers une succession de visions instables. Chaque lieu semble relié au précédent, mais rien ne conserve longtemps sa forme. Les pièces respirent, les noms se détachent des corps, les routes deviennent des anneaux et le ciel se met à rendre le regard.
Au dernier titre, le voyage ne consiste plus à atteindre une destination. Le soleil violet a absorbé la rivière, la fumée, les fleurs, les serpents, le voyageur et jusqu’au souvenir du voyage. Il ne reste que l’écho de bande, la couleur, la vibration et l’impression que le périple n’a peut-être jamais commencé.
Paroles originales en anglais & sous-titres
Melting clocks drip from the sky Colors bleed and learn to fly Spirals turn inside my mind Leaves are whispering "you're not time" Floating... dissolving... Into the purple sun Waves of sound are calling The trip has just begun Lizards dance in fractal light Windows breathing, day turns night I am the river, I am the stone Every atom sings alone Floating... dissolving... Into the purple sun Waves of sound are calling The trip has just begun Stars are bleeding liquid gold Stories from the ages told I have no body, I have no name Only the eternal flame
Don't wake them They only fly when you're dreaming Glass birds turning above my bed Crystal wings and feathers red Every time their shadows pass Another hour becomes glass The wallpaper begins to breathe Pulling silver from its teeth All the corners bend away Night is swallowing the day My sleeping hands detach and climb Up the curtains, out of time One becomes a violet flame One forgets it ever came Tiny bells beneath the floor Ring for people here no more Something laughs behind the wall Softly waiting for my fall Glass birds open seven eyes Showing me seven different skies In one I drown, in one I burn In one I never will return Then the largest bird leans near Places one wing on my ear Whispers what the dead all know You were never down below
The moon drinks from my hands The moon drinks from my hands I pour away the night I pour away the man There is no shore There is no sand The moon drinks from my hands There is no door There is no land The moon drinks from my hands Drink the river Drink the flame Leave the body Lose the name
Electric serpents in the road Carrying a painted load Here they come! Here they come! Electric serpent parade! Purple engines cough and grin Paper saints are climbing in Plastic horses bite the rain Tiny kings have lost their brains Every traffic light turns blue Every face is split in two Someone rings a silver bell Opening the mouth of hell Rubber soldiers made of smoke Dance each time the pavement broke Taxi drivers leave their skin Let the marching snakes climb in Seven drums beneath the street Shake the buildings with their feet Windows laugh and chimneys sway Nothing normal lives today Here they come! Here they come! Electric serpent parade! Close your eyes! Lose your mind! Watch the daylight fade! They're underneath us now!
We entered through a mouth of stone No one asked our names No one carried fire Still, every candle was burning Burning without flame Calling without name The columns had no ending The ceiling had no shape Faces slept inside the walls Waiting for the smoke to wake them Wake them Wake them Wake them At the centre stood no altar At the altar stood no god Only a mirror full of smoke And in the smoke A door What did you see? A face without eyes What did it say? You have already died Where did it point? Beyond the wall What waited there? Nothing at all Smoke in the blood Smoke in the bone Smoke is the road Smoke is the home Open the mirror Open the flame Take what is left And forget the name
Flowers growing through my eyes Turning daylight into skies Let them open, let them shine Every color becomes mine Tiny people in the grass Wave at every cloud that passes Silver ladders touch the sun Climbed by everyone but one Butterflies become the rain Washing numbers from my brain Every drop that touches ground Opens like a tiny sound Trees remove their roots and walk Leaves begin to laugh and talk Roses turn their heads to stare At the colors in my hair All the fences melt like snow There is nowhere left to go Even distance disappears Pouring music in my ears Roots are growing through my feet Pulling stars beneath the street Petals opening in my head Blue and yellow, green and red I can no longer see the sky The sky is looking through my eyes
When the universe forgets your name Will the stars still burn the same? Will the darkness know your face? Will your shadow leave a trace? I wrote my name across the sun Watched the golden letters run Down the sky and through the sea Until none of them were me A wheel inside a wheel An eye inside an eye A sky beneath the ocean An ocean in the sky The machine is still dreaming The dream is still alive Yesterday stood by the door But did not know me anymore Tomorrow slept beneath the stairs Braiding flowers through its hair I asked them both which road was mine They pointed past the edge of time Where every path became a ring Turning back through everything I have no hands to hold the moon No mouth to sing another tune No eyes for flowers, smoke or glass No feet to feel the serpents pass I have no body I have no flame I have no memory I have no name You were the river You were the stone You were together You were alone You were the question You were the flame You were the answer Before the name Stars are bleeding liquid gold Every second growing old All the walls have disappeared Everything I loved or feared Floats into the purple sun The ending and what had begun Every atom, every sound Turns once more and circles round The trip had never begun
Explorer cet album
Recommandé si vous aimez
- Le rock psychédélique de la fin des années 1960 au son analogique chaleureux
- Le rock acide avec guitare fuzz, sitar & orgue
- Le raga psychédélique & les fragments vocaux proches du mantra
- Les atmosphères d’orgue Hammond, de Farfisa & de Mellotron
- Les boucles de bande inversées, le phasing & les productions riches en écho
- Les concepts surréalistes à l’échelle d’un album plutôt que les singles isolés
- L’énergie garage psych mêlée à des passages folk oniriques
- Les longs finales psychédéliques où les motifs se dissolvent
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