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Folie

by A Novelist

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americaneurosbmlover66613
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americaneurosbmlover66613 Folie has a very special place in my heart, as it was my introduction to the underground prog scene. It showed me that prog can create an extremely rich atmosphere using unconventional means. A melancholic experience with cleans that are out of this world, this album deserves a lot more attention if underground prog is your scene. Favorite track: Acacia Crown.
autodidact904
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autodidact904 An album written about a Revolution in France, Folie is a whirlwind of pragmatic, shredding prog guitar melodies layered against modest bass, evocative mixed vocals, and high velocity post-hardcore drums. Whichever genre this is, whichever formula they desired, they've done it right. 9/10 Favorite track: His Kingdom is Vast.
minusoneman2
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minusoneman2 Progressive Melodic Death Metal 4.0! If you ever wondered how classic Gothenburg-Melo Death perfectly matches with high class Prog Rock listen to this record. Note: the clean vox bring in some kind of 30-Seconds-To-Mars-Vibe. Truly unique full of deepest passion and hell of a banger! Favorite track: Caveat Lector.
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1.
Folie Noire 02:35
Schadenfreude or so they say Manual scavengers dress my wounds Thorazine brides with artificial grooms Bathe my feet in the bosom of the this tomb Parasitic gestures fill this room A nest of watchful eyes Blackened lungs for everyone When paranoia creeps in Glossolalia stains my skin Hypergraphic insurrection The depth of my reach Carries on in parable sleep Sleep sweet dream Despair reigns In the House of Auto-da-Fe
2.
Exteriors 03:20
Petrine supremacy Immutable in strength and beauty Burgeoning great edifice He is exalted And circumscribed in palisades The scaffolding holds my memories in place Of a long forgotten history Pure Gold albatross fortress Genius loci countless in number Trump l'oeil guise shrouds my vices Like emerald giants choking on diamonds In the corps de logis An unknown stranger appears with bended knee Extending gifts to kiss his signet ring Fear not perdition from me In the Houses of Auto-da-Fe The only place I'd call home There's an open door In the room of my return These ashes were spilled without concern There's an open door To the room of my return These ashes were spilled without concern There's an open door To the room of no return These ashes were spilled without concern
3.
Tombeau 04:09
Exiled Posthumous But still this feeling lingers A sad testament to the only constants Of time and death In coffins I'm aging Yet still I walk the earth In the mouths of honest men That speak of my return Arise and praise We're in the Houses of Auto-da-Fe We clearly sacrifice in his name Under the auspices of infinite flames Line my grave with funeral spray and with memories With memories of better days Light my effigy A beacon it may become For safe passage through this enfilade As they prayed in flames Algor mortis as plain as day I welcome death Tailor made antibody with catafalque drapes A resting place where spirits feign At the notion of being saved In my grave I lay abstract Roam forever intact Just to keep you reaching Could you ever find me now Nude like undressed wounds Grotesque renditions of bodies in a tomb Nude like undress wounds Grotesque renditions a body now exhumed The only path that I cross Carved out and inverted The only path that I cross On this path I am your servant
4.
Apparitions 04:21
And if I pull that cinch to tight And form a capillary mist This patient sits with a vacant hiss I reached out to your god Amputated at the wrist So I haunt these grounds For the rest of my days Pallor and cold before my edifice Painful and old these wounds that exude hate Pallor and cold before my edifice Gaze and behold as I manifest Blinded a lens inverts the light in my direction Did you forget to excavate I've been hanging around Since you dug my grave I grew from the seeds you sewed yesterday Locked inside this tomb We sing this elegy Apparitions Pallor and cold before my edifice Painful and old these wounds that exude hate Pallor and cold before my edifice Gaze and behold as I manifest Apparitions Welcome to my humble abode Hail Death Hail Satan Never a soul above or below my reach or imagination A grave mistake Hail Death
5.
Torn apart by your careless caress From the hand me down jaundice Used to write your dissent Eyes open eyes shut pried open From the automatic writing of your alien hand And these bells that ring come at your own expense A palace of no respite And yet we're still remiss Chalice dripping wet His cup runneth red again Crepitus Rumors amidst of an empty throne Moribund Cicatricial changes in the pulse of this home Cachexia Wasting and frail in this world of shit Dementia Pathetic loss of the essence of self Memories Memories fade with his last embrace A saber rattling Crying scarlet tears as he whispers in your ear I had control before you noticed me And all your struggles I've admired Just when the last hand rises from this grave And Pavlov's curses have retired You'll see their ashes stirring in the breeze Condemned by Satan's burning fires A palace of no respite And yet we're still remiss A chalice dripping wet His cup runneth red again Rumors of an empty throne
6.
Such crass design tis relentless Now take your seat and bear witness When up rose a flame To burn out the path of utmost resistance And I'm still burning with the strangers in the House of Auto-da-Fe Wondrous is the arrival come one come all It's so great you'll never leave Until you drink from his unliving waters Until you cower from the sweet sick smell Mirror neurons the lack thereof Behold an impulse of untold desire Synapses vespers all together whispering These are the traits of a vacuous entity With regret and bereavement We share a common dream And I'm still burning To seek the vantage of a new day When the emperor's new clothes won't matter And the keys to this palace expire There's an unseen tenant in the last ventricle Where the shaking hands turn the clock back To a time where I'm not connected Asystole
7.
Acacia Crown 05:11
Awake to the sound of a deafening cadence Only heard by the mute Only heard by the paralyzed arms Who here will help the widow's son He's at it again Unheard rings of pitch that circumvent who's looking in Taken back by the stench there's someone here Hygroscopic doll eyes exchange in glance Who here will help the widow's son He's at it again The traces that you left Acacia crowns my head An ancient syringe inoculates my death The traces that you left Acacia crowns my head Can you reach the bottom Hook line and sinker With this ring I thee wed A fugue of reticent plagues Done by these idle hands The blackest smoke The pope is dead And how heavy the head who wears the crown The world is his You belong to the flotsam I found my way to acacia Just along this dim lit path Lies decrepit replicas Of an extant past
8.
Enthralled by joy from the screams of the eluent Behold an impulse axon to amygdala I have a dream spoken through prosthetic tongues Betwixt the throes of reticent compulsion Recurring themes exercised in idee fixe Is this the antidote Give to me give it Obey me, I am the living word made into the flesh Your high priest I am the reason you're here after all Ensued by beta stimulus I approach offering a paradise of impending sleep Your eyes look heavy with accents of sarcophagi Obey me, I am the living word made into nameless graves you won't unearth With simple wake and funeral dirge Do you speak in forked tongue when you read my lexicon Delta G is on the rise when the hissing starts leaking from my ossuary A shining city on the hill A coda for the comatose Dreaming not dead not sleeping Behold and revere We sing for the revenir Behold and revere Feel pulses fade when he appears Do you speak with forked tongues when you read my lexicon Delta G is on the rise when the hissing starts leaking from my ossuary Beware a shining city on the hill This is the return of Auto-da-Fe This is my reprisal I've been burning at the stake And just when you reached for my grave A pall of severed tongues sang in cinerary flames Dancing on my burrow to the tune of seven plagues When you bear the teeth of my epicedium and they dance They dance just for me And you might just earn my blessing should you stay And you don't have to hold your tongue but you might just watch what you say because This is the return of Auto-da-Fe This is my reprisal I've been burning at the stake
9.
Lugubrious with uncertain eyes Apposite as if the sun had died Traced in braille but not revived Anxious and pale where his body now resides Pull down your cloak Because with days I grow weary Delicate voices sing tales of sedition Revel in his second coming Anticrosses mark his body Ritual act of faith Samarra marks his fate Delicate voices sing tales of sedition Impenitent flame born dissident Embrace the act of faith Red X this is my monogram marking me for certain death Bound hands introduce me slowly to your sanctimony Black hands take hold my body and usher me through acrimony There's no place to go When you're locked inside the confines of your captors home Stockholm familiars raising you from the dead They won't stop Infernal legions are erected in your monument I have an inkling as to why you came into our home And now that you've seen the burning Reborn dead but not alone
10.
Crestfallen 02:17
Here I am shaking again But Rome wasn't built in a day So genuflect with piss this pantomime rorschach Gravida abrasions Lost regalia consumes me Crestfallen majesties Unopposed we take the leap of faith Unopposed bound with a length of tape And now we wait for your return But only see decay Cadaveric changes Lost regalia consumes me Crestfallen majesties Unopposed we take the leap of faith Unopposed bound with a length of tape Unopposed enough to demonstrate Unopposed we take the leap of faith
11.
Chronic exacerbation of a focal weakness Peripheral luxuries quicken my end To induce a state of acute psychosis With one foot toeing the grave I feign the dance of death Mirrorbox stimuli reflecting the present tense of his hands Tell me how you survived Listen to me This is hell Patience that is the key I made my bed like a good slave Am I to slumber agelessly Tossing waiting anticipating Feel the vecuronium course through your veins again Patience that is the key in learning paralysis Mirrorbox stimuli reflecting the present tense of his hands Tell me how you survived Listen to me This is hell
12.
Interiors 07:24
Fell a victim in the Houses of Auto-da-Fe You pull the keystone from my tattered home reticula Erase the footsteps from my harlot croon ephemera Ambassadors of blue grew retrograde in hollow tombs I'd leave the riverbed but these trapdoors are closing in again Take me under again We drink the blood of the holy ghost To make it seem so we're not alone Before the choir sings of contrition From these webs weaved in attrition Before these webs weaved in attrition And just when the end is near Don't fret to terry long With great zeal spread your heart thin And raise your glass to the Pope of Hell Don't keep him waiting long Time is a withered shell My only son what's left to burn My only son take care of the ashes in your urn My only son what have you learned Rich gits wax poor when the giver is unconcerned And there was an illustration of catacombs This visitor has found a home These hypergraphic illustrations Left behind a pale of anxious interference Where the bodies now reside With this crippled presentation We define the role of our beloved patron To reveal uncertain eyes

credits

released February 8, 2019

Recorded by Ben Nugent and Alex Babineaux in New Orleans, LA
Produced by Ben Nugent and Alex Babineaux
Co-produced by Jamie King
Co-produced by Kevin King.
Mixed by Jamie King at The Basement Recording
Mastered by Jamie King at The Basement Recording
All music written by Ben Nugent and Alex Babineaux
All music owned by Ben Nugent and Alex Babineaux
On this album A Novelist is Ben Nugent, Alex Babineaux, Marc "Elder" Linam, Chelsea Self, and Jessica Morgan
Ben Nugent - vocals, guitars, bass, keyboards, effects
Alex Babineaux - Drums, percussion, and backing vocals
Marc "Elder" Linam - Tenor saxophone, Alto saxophone, baritone saxophone, c-melody saxophone, clarinet, oboe, and flute.
Chelsea Self - backing vocals
Jessica Morgan - backing vocals
Album Art by Jessica Morgan
In memory of the Pope of Hell and the House of Auto-da-Fe

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A Novelist Louisiana

A Novelist is a progressive death metal band from Lafayette, LA.

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