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Under the Green Moon è una discesa nell’acid folk occulto in sette brani, presentata come una registrazione perduta stampata privatamente nel 1968. Comincia con un invito sotto una quercia, attraversa un cerchio rituale e termina dopo che la foresta è diventata sia lo scenario sia la forza che dirige la cerimonia.
Il suono resta radicato nella chitarra acustica fingerpicking, nell’autoharp e nel dulcimer, poi accoglie flauto, bordoni ad arco, organo a pompa, percussioni a mano e voci sovrapposte. I brani successivi ampliano la tavolozza con sitar elettrico, tanpura, Farfisa, loop di nastro e voci rovesciate, passando da un folk intimo e infestato a un’instabile psichedelia rituale.
Periodo d’archivio: 1968 · Pubblicato:
Scaletta
- 1Oakblood4:23
- 2Mandrake4:51
- 3Green Fire4:13
- 4The Ivy Girl4:17
- 5Black Bell4:34
- 6Mosspath3:58
- 7Blood of the Seeds4:48
Note dell'album
Il disco è disposto come un passaggio continuo sempre più profondo nel bosco. “Oakblood” apre il cerchio senza lanciare alcun avvertimento: voci sussurrate e corde acustiche rendono invitante la prima soglia. “Mandrake” porta il rituale nel corpo, dove radici, terra e respiro cominciano a scambiarsi di posto.
Al centro, “Green Fire” trasforma il calderone in una fonte di lento slancio psichedelico. “The Ivy Girl” riduce la narrazione a frammenti e voci ripetute, mentre “Black Bell” rende la cerimonia più antica e deliberata. Il suo linguaggio scarno di campana e organo crea lo spazio più austero dell’album.
“Mosspath” si ritira brevemente nella nebbia prima che il rituale strumentale acquisti forza. “Blood of the Seeds” abbandona poi la forma di una normale canzone folk: sitar, Farfisa, bordoni, sonagli e voci al contrario trascinano il brano conclusivo in una completa allucinazione acid folk. L’album non spiega il rito. Lascia una catena d’immagini — quercia, radice, fiamma verde, edera, campana, muschio e seme — e permette alla foresta di collegarle.
Testi originali in inglese
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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Consigliato se ti piace
- Acid folk occulto
- Chitarra acustica fingerpicking e dulcimer
- Psichedelia da rituale forestale
- Loop di nastro e voci rovesciate
- Percussioni a mano ipnotiche
- Oscura atmosfera folk da stampa privata
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