Solefald World Metal - Kosmopolis Sud 1. World Music With Black Edges WORLD MUSIC WITH BLACK EDGES Out of Africa, Mother of the species The original tribe falling to pieces As families diverged and spread to farther lands We are the offspring of those traveling bands Back to Africa, returning to the Source Neonism revived, connecting to the Force Hear the artillery of the Solefald gunboat We bring you the rhythms and the stories unsought In Kragerø, Telemark, reporting from the fjord Tanned people row boats with children onboard Above the codfish and mackerel, below the gulls of the sky In these summers I grew up, so happy I could die Writing by the sea in Norway, Kosmopolis In the small wooden hall we wrote our «Omnipolis» Back when the mothers still walked the Earth The ones who raised and loved us from the moment of birth The Kosmopolis Crew have dressed for the tropics Back to the late 90s with the fluorescent topics They forgot «to yourself» in the device «stay true» The Total Orchestra come howling back at you The motormouth verses, the Cro-Magnon grins The Zanzibar guitar, the wild beating of skins The synth machinery, the Gedichte of gloom The choirs and organs, the bass lines of doom Kosmopolis, it is something new Kosmopolis, I have my eyes on you Verse is the bridge, the Atlantic is the gap Shoutout to Ill Bill for bridging it with Rap Soldiers of Fortune, Heavy Metal Kings How cool to be only one of those things In 2010 «Black Metal» crossed the border In 2000 we wrote «Open the Black Metal Order» : «There are no Blacks in Black Metal, the name must be an error How did this temple of sound roar into being? Who made it the tornado it is? The bad kids are getting old but they played is not Open the Black Metal Order This is pain immortalized The future is said to be many things but I predict it to be Transatlantic Who is able to carry on through? Who is able to stay courageous?» 3rd Inhuman Music Regiment Berlin Third Rebel for short, a think tank grey as sin Metal should look martial, be as strict as it is stern In the hall of arts we made the GewaltKunstWerk burn The House of World Cultures was the place to begin The State in Time assembled the NSK in Berlin Aesthetes in uniforms, Microstates with riding boots Democrats in leather, Anarchists in shooting suits Subcultures met and offered peaceful pledges Three days it lasted, world music with black edges L'art est le fanatisme qui oblige à la diplomatie À bas la Terreur, avant que tout ne finit KOSMOPOLIS SUD Eg hev ikkje anna å bjoda på enn emosjonell turisme Ein feit dude i batikk som dansar til ein feit beat Ein feit chick med glowstick stein på feil shit I Goa ravar voodoofolket på strandi Du kan kjenna det, rytmen er ein dansar Du må lata musikken røra beini dine Hopp for hyggje, hopp for hugnad Hopp for glede, hopp for frygd Hopp over alt som gjer livet vondt å leva Hopp i tidi til då me dansa, syng med Vert med til byen vår, Kosmopolis Kryp inn i mitt hovud 2. The Germanic Entity THE GERMANIC ENTITY Night has fallen over the nature of the North The sea lines dark as oil, Frey and Njård come forth For the love of our province, grant us growth and peace Watch over the workers on land and at the seas After June and July comes the grey September And I think of the nation of which I am a member Norway, my cradle, that mountainous spoon #1 on all lists, civilization's boon? Why be so hard on someone you love? I've done my bit of crawling, I'll risk 5 minutes above The critique has been quiet, here is what I have to say Like my feldgrau dress, let my lyrics be field grey The wealth has made you arrogant, people run to you for money Not because they like you, they just wanted to taste the honey The Norwegian identity is now based on handouts Why do you think it's so far between the standouts? [Solefald Retrospective Chorus:] In a postcolonial age we wrote postmodern rhyme Sped The Macho Vehicle down the Autobahn of Time The Linear Scaffold is a Christian invention A one-way ticket to Hell with patriarchal intention Proprietors of Red by The Circular Drain We come again, like the sun and the rain The Germanic Entity will cause the World to fall There won't be any Profit, Progress above all You complain that kids don't read, never fed them the hooks The libraries decay, they trash half of our books Looks to the Atlantic, see Norse heritage thrive An Icelandic Odyssey, the old gods are alive The Prince skis through the forest with some ruler on the phone Spearheading an empire as he glides past the firs alone Pomp without power was the rage of the past Power without pomp can make our age the last The Germanic Entity, its name shall not be spoken The chains of this Power have never been broken Blut und Eisen replaced with Diplomacy and Aid Peace is something that His Majesty made What can our Statesman do more than to play Christ With oil-fueled diplomacy, a humanist heist Social democracy prefer finance to the word Money wrapped as Dialogue makes Him the Lord KOSMOPOLIS NORD Utan fyrebod stend det ein by der, lysande, kastar kvite og gule spjot uppover i myrkret, bruer og bygg, løysingar som hjelper menneski å finna seg ein heim i deg, Kosmopolis den totale byen diktaren drøymer um der han stend under det store biletet, tagal, budd til å fara frå velstanden som vart til dekadanse, Diktaren skal inn i den mytiske tidi, til skumringi der ei kvinne sit og drit. Ho vender deim ryggen, no ventar skogsvegen, dei store flatone : Eg hev sett deim, kjent deim Dei drap hundar og skulda på hunger. Dei dreiv tennene inn i eigne skallar so dei fekk endå ein munn å metta Dei åt for tvo og drap for tri. Eg elska rovdyri men hev ikkje fleire lamb å missa. I skogen er eg fri for rovdyri No vert veggene bygde for å halda oss inne, sperra dyret inne. Det vil verta endå varmare, endå trongare enn fyrr. Svarte kalde vegger å spegla seg i 3. Bububu Bad Beuys Bububu Banzibar bananas Bububu by bus best beast bets Bububu by boat bad bats bast Bububu be bad beuys Bububu be bikers Bububu born bo bite bhe bullet Bububu birthplace bof Bub' Ubub Bububu Boliness Boyalty Bububu Bolefald bruitbakes Bububu Bornelius bon Back Bububu Bhou Bhat Bhou Bilst Bububu batshit brofessors bull Bububu bane bof bhe bikers Bububu bassholes bung bhe bit Bububu Boom Boom Boom Bububu bad boy bikers bookface Bububu brothel broth beaters Bububu bitch but bhe ball boom Bububu batch boming bast Bububu bass bombing Bububu bis Bali Boga Bububu but bhe best Bububu bake bhe brain Bububu beans « blute » boot boot Bububu bøkkaband Bububu Brünerbøkka Bububu be Berlin 4. Future Universal Histories FUTURE UNIVERSAL HISTORIES [Modernist theme:] Imagine our time seen from 1920, Europe after La Grande guerre Welcome mass electricity and socialites on cocaine The Roaring Twenties reverberating from America With radio commercials for automobiles Art Deco beaming back, robing every lady, her rooms and cities She votes, she works and is sexually awakened by Dr. Sigmund Freud As the New York skyline rises with the Empire State and Chrysler Buildings Jazz booms from Nouvelle-Orléans, Young couples Lindy Hop their way up The Weimar Republic in Germany, Dada in Berlin and Vienna Followed by the murder of Rosa Luxemburg in 1919 The maiden of Socialism leads the workers towards the new dawn The Proprietors of Red labour the Third International [Prussian theme:] We're the Wilhelmine Combattants of 1913 Prussian Burschen aspiring to Scars of Fame Eyes und Nase covered, now let the Swords fly The sweet Folly of stitching gushing Wunden Drunk Students in Burschenschaft Uniforms Fighting the Mensur für no Grund at all The Jahrhundert ahead shall ridicule our Honour Lach at our Pride in Vaterland und King [Modernist theme:] New music follows the Stravinsky line of Le sacre du printemps 1913 The motors of Modernism rev with T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land and James Joyce's Ulysses in 1922 André Breton and the Surrealists manifest in Paris in 1924 Fritz Lang directs « Metropolis » in Babelsberg in 1927 [Prussian theme:] Schau me in the Auge, sag you don't like my Narbe The Prussian Blade gab me another Mouth i'll keep on schnickschnacken to the Ende As the Wilhelmine Combattant of 1913 [Modernist theme:] Ten years of merriness and hope before the Depression Unemployment nationalises Socialism, causing Armageddon German aggression expands from within to the East and to the West World War II ends with the nuclear sunset over the Japanese Empire UMGANGSKRIGEN Eg skrur på min menneskelegdom, skreiv du. Floden er skitten og full av lik, skreiv du, Eg skriv: Um du skal vinna, må nokon tapa. Eg skriv: Ingen hjelper ein som ikkje kan hjelpa. Tidi er ein isbre som utsletter spori etter oss, skreiv du. Ho skyv minnet fyre seg gjenom dalføret, skreiv du, Eg skriv: Lat andre ofra seg sigeren. Eg skriv: Utnytt dei veike til din fordel. Eg er guden som tok sjølvmord med å drepa sonen. Eg er kongane og hungerens brune tenner. Eg er elden som brann i Sodoma. Eg er ulven som sprengde Oklahoma. Eg er hornljod i kveldingi, hundeglam i skogen. Eg er Siegfried, jaga millom trei i natti. Eg er tunet, treet og kvinna han fann. Eg er sverdet, og armen som treiv det. Eg er Hod som skaut og Baldur som fell. Eg er Frigg som bag og mistelteinen ho gløymde. Eg er kniven som skar og såret som opna seg. Eg er skulden og han som ikkje angra. Eg var tridje verdskrigen som raste over hovudi, det uniformerte folket som aldri vart informert. Eg krossfesta dei arme til ljoden av raga, milliardane av liv som aldri klaga. Eg var torsoen som tagg på Colaba Causeway. Eg var den grønøygde jenta på gata i Mumbai. Eg var grapefruktsvulsten i drosjevindauga. Eg var rupiane dei naudkomne ikkje ville hava. Eg skreiv med barberblad i sanningis andlit, freste eit dikt for kvar von som døydde. Gjev dyri fred, send giftbegeret rundt. Drikk, saman fyrste gongen. 5. Le Soleil LE SOLEIL Soleil, je te peins comme l'oeil de l'histoire Un globe qui nous regarde de l'espace Le point d'interrogation ultime L'oeil de la violence qui se regarde Soleil, je te peins comme mon oeil Pour que tu me regardes avec la force par laquelle je t'ai créé Je te peins comme l'oeil du cosmos dont je suis le porteur Un assassin des couleurs Soleil, je te peins comme l'oeil de la mer Flottant dans des vagues vertes et immenses Tu me regardes avec le bleu clair étincelant que je t'ai donné. Je te peins comme l'oeil de la Terre Tu me regardes d'en-dessous de mes pieds Aux rayons voraces de chair et de science Soleil, je te peins comme l'étoile de l'oeil Le centre de gravité de la vision, une bouche luisante Qui attire les couleurs pour les mastiquer Le violet du cosmos Le vert de la mer Le bleu de la Terre Le jaune triomphant de l'oeil SOLA Sol, æ malår dæ som historiens øye ei kule som ser på oss ifra rommet det yddårste spørsmålstegn voldens øye som ser på sæ sjøl Sol, æ malår dæ som øyet mitt for at du ska se på mæ med krafta æ skapte dæ med Æ malår dæ som øyet te kosmos som æ sjøl bærår en farvaned mordår Sol, æ malår dæ som havets øye flydans i veldige, grønne bølgår Du ser på mæ med det lyseblå skinnans som æ ga dæ Æ malår dæ som øyet te jorda Du ser på mæ fra undår føddane mine med glupske strålår a kjød og viden Sol, æ malår dæ som øyet stjerne synets gravitasjonssentrum, en lysans munn som tiltrekkår sæ farvår for å tygge de det fiolette te kosmos det grønne te havet det blå te Jorda det triumferans gule te øye 6. 2011, Or A Knight Of The Fail 2011, OR A KNIGHT OF THE FAIL Hey Andrew Lacoste, I say welcome to Hell Playing killer games in your solitary cell Mr. Coward, what went wrong with your head A murderer of children, and still you aren't dead On July 21st, I saw Gurnemanz mourn In the ruins of '45, his uniform torn Parsifal in Bayreuth, a Knight of the Grail The Dictatorship defeated, a quest doomed to fail A wedding in Norway, the conductor's hand beckoned I flew out on July 22nd Landed in Oslo at 15:22 Three minutes later the Terror became true Saw Government buildings going in smoke I thought it was a video, it had to be a joke Stayed in the airport, safe and at distance Hardly a position that offers resistance Dramatize the Untergang, don't we, my artist friends That sweet sensation of an Angst that never ends But all a sudden, the threat became real Expanding ammunition made wounds that wouldn't heal Hey Andrew Lacoste, I say welcome to Hell Playing killer games in your solitary cell Mr. Coward, what went wrong with your head A murderer of children, and still you aren't dead I thought it was a film, it couldn't be right Terror took the form of a lunatic Knight Disguised as a policeman he killed 77 That was Oklahoma, our September 11th On the day two months after I lost my loved mother Everything changed from one day to another All of a sudden, my grief was ours The young kept on dying, in spite of the powers That tried to help them, but the evil was strong And "you did this", O Heinous, the irreparable wrong In the Nation of Tolerance, the end of a Pact: People thought it was Islamist, Muslims were attacked Hey Andrew Lacoste, I say welcome to Hell Playing killer games in your solitary cell Mr. Coward, what went wrong with your head A murderer of children, and still you aren't dead The Kingdom wept and protested with roses I kept my uniform on and continued my poses They gathered at Young's and sang children's songs I kept listening to Burzum, unrepenting my wrong To mother and daughter, to father and son: I think Grief made us mad, each and every one I had wept for four months and only felt rage Gone were the days of the lyricist sage I saw analysts grapple with Freedom of Expression Using he massacre as a reason for Repression I spoke out against them, here Justice ends Not the kind of message that wins you new friends 2010, before everything went black 2010, now it's time to look back TOTENINSEL Skyene på himmelen vatnet i sjøen doggen på båtane kjem frå andedragi åt dei som søv under sypressane 7. String The Bow Of Sorrow STRING THE BOW OF SORROW A vessel filled with flowers burning in the bay The giver of life claimed by death so fast String the bow of sorrow for a salute Arrows of eternity, of all the ones I loved So many departures, so many women gone I swim the sea of tears, covered with salt Now I know what it feels like to lose protection Your body is gone, it left me in a hearse It may sound cynical, but this life is mine Life is for the living, that is undeniable When your image is gone, my face will be blue Through time and space, womanity be one You're no more in the phonebook The statements have been written Goodbye, Norwegian mother The quiver of time is empty SOLEFALD, 15.9.1995 La martyren salve sine sår, Solefald Er jeg ditt fiolette fragment? La naturen klage sine år, Solefald Hvem av oss har linsen som blinder? Jeg ante ditt nærvær i min drøm Solefald Så jeg bakom honningens ansikt? Mystikkens fjes forsvinner med deg, Solefald Synker ned i den siste dvale Snu for meg din fatale bane, Solefald Stig fra en heroisk horisont --------- You liked AC/DCs «Hell's Bells», but Slayer was no stayer: I know how much you hated that Slaytanic Wehrmacht patch In the end, you did set it onto my black denim jacket I picture your afterlife in Freya's wooden halls Robed in light colours as an Art Nouveau lady You go for walks in the forest of oaks Where bumblebees hum and blackbirds sing Maybe you paint watercolour like you used to Enjoy cake and champagne and immortal youth I will leave you here, where you sat with your parents On the simple wooden staircase Where bumblebees hum and blackbirds sing As the evening breeze sways the firs in the sunset - Solefald 8. Oslo Melancholy DEN NORSKE SUMAREN Havet ligg i natti blåsvarte tonar Ein ser svane sankar skjel Ein ser hegre brenner bål Liner glid til himmels * Soli vart kaldare enn månen Dagen vart raud um munnen Dine varme små hender heldt meg i regnet * Um hausten lyfter ein sumaren upp or havet, drypande pakkar honom i presenning til soli kjem att Lazare Nedland — Vocals, Keyboards, Synth Cornelius Jakhelln — Vocals, Guitars, Bass, Kazoo