Form and structure. Storm and fracture.

by Coins As Portraits

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Download the album:
www.fadinghalorecords.com?page_id=93

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released October 1, 2011

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music & lyrics by Coins As Portraits
recorded, mixed and mastered by Marius Costache / www.mariuscostache.ro
Fading Halo Records / www.fadinghalorecords.com
Asiluum Records / www.asiluum.com
cover by Mircea Vlad / www.mirceavlad.com

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Coins As Portraits Brașov, Romania

Coins as Portraits is a grindcore band from Brasov, Romania. They have been developing their sound since 2006, with their first proper recording "Form and Structure, Storm and Fracture" released in 2011. Coins as Portraits take a progressive approach to songwriting, pushing past genre boundaries. Their experimenting involves unusual time signatures, dissonance and unconventional song structures. ... more

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Track Name: Great Numbers
Serving as a moral defense, a designated presence of mind impresses with a gentle invitation. A movement, a gesture, stands more as a purpose for the neglected. It’s not a worthless scenery, but a necessary thievery of collective notions about being part of something gradually harder to control. The human nature is a burden in their attempt of forced transcendence, but a soothing word stands as a retribution to a still compelled conscience. Blinded by their parental duty they find themselves confused with the fakest sense of responsibility. Help is just a lie from their staring leader, whose implication counts as more than if it was considered a calculated, over-tested solution wrapped in the truth. The infallible equation stands to fall as the time they bought has expired and the invention of entities is beyond their capabilities. Time serves none – seeking through written virtues they discover no icon of deliverance, yet they have to bear the burden of witnessing the very downfall of their frail system. The spark of life is consumed before they learn their lesson. The morning sun artificially opens eyes to show there’s no control.
Track Name: The Curator's Brush
My absolute presence is not problematic; too little is the power provided by your being. Should you learn from your mistakes, you may yet have one last chance - but that is merely casting eyes on reason, never on effect. Ready you shall never be, nor a god in your own times, for living all the lives can teach you but one word. And leaving all aside, it bothers me still more that facing your own truth is absent from your tongue. As delighted as I am by your tries to subdue, teaching them your language was your greatest of arts. Although without form, they drink from your container of proverbs. Skillfully you managed to forge your kind’s thirst. The will of your response is high and yet too faint, for never would you think that the question is your answer. Add your eyes to the sight, give false tongue - gain advantage.
Track Name: The Plot
It can’t be more evident: you’re too weak to control yourself. This is how you slowly disappear in their eyes, but your memory lasts seconds longer. Ask yourself if it’s worth it and face the difficulty to survive from the dry kiss of disgrace. You cannot deform their magic; it is bound to teach you a lesson: forge an aesthetic icon for all to obey - turning them into puppets is within your grasp. And where’s the irony in this? Fate was always in their own hands.
Track Name: The Human Predicament: Part I
There is a substance in you that tempered your brotherly love and I feel such nature can only cause an infectious solitude. Brothers our father made us be, but beg I will not for my life to last. He is always listening: tears and strength become my vows, for now. Yet I will subdue to your mindset of pathological flaws, but I lack the force to reach and stop your hand from taking what’s not rightfully yours. You can't see that this fratricide is no longer the taking of a life; it is as if you murdered the whole mankind, spreading mischief across the land. I’m feeling sympathy for my murderer, for I never felt a wound. I cannot read in your eyes the mark of providence, but given your standing, my last word will not be the casting of a prayer, but merely giving tongue to my thoughts: I have no ink-eating testament. Slowly I begin to understand... Farewell, farewell, farewell brother!
Track Name: The Human Predicament: Part II
An ordinary feeling rests as a reason, with the last drop of truth arousing your dry lips. It’s my awe-inspiring confidence that feeds your doubts. I can’t help but wonder: if we are our divinity alike, but no traces of everlasting war of races, then better must he be than our purely opaque soul? A brotherly reverence drives your blind forgiveness; you should’ve known better that truly always will existence be restored by another. At this time I think the rain drops are not aiming at me. It’s easy to turn white to grey, life to illness. An insight into God’s creation leaves me with a bitter taste. Man couldn’t have created all that’s evil; my final scope is to prevent your feeble body in unwashed coverings to render grey hearts, in distant rooms, less eternal. The hand that prays is the same that kills and I shall seize the everyday uncontrolled gestures with an affectionate move that will undoubtedly cause both a terrestrial and divine ending.
Track Name: Overcome By Assumption
Since when did you assign yourself the right to judge whether a locust is life? I always laugh when you fail to realize your values are worthless in the contractual circumstances that have been created by historically correct events. There’s no one else to blame but you. All this place becomes a dome, with curbed perspectives misguiding your greed-altered life. There’s no such thing as a better you.
Track Name: Solipsism
You can’t buy more time if you lie to your destiny over and over again. This oppression goes far beyond our father of personalities; we should not dare to succeed. That’s why I beg you to leave me the glory of choice and ignore that you’ll get the burden of having to decide if death is a good price of self reliance, pushed to solipsism. Figures won’t lie but liars will figure, now you have to be careful: passion hidden in this angry heart, but dormant in its memories of false beliefs. The solitude that I have been fighting to obtain is covering the very core of your perfection. Could it be that it was there all along? I invented your love, but undone, I can alter all of your words! I will not allow from this premise to spring a mindset of victimhood superiority. You’re curiously starting to deny a solipsistic self apocalypse – caused by both minds. With a lethal brew of formidable power I shall virulently purge myself from you.