I loved her previous album and got contacted by her with the question if I was interested in writing a review (and had a nice chat about my holiday in Norway, escpecially Bergen). I jumped in without knowing anything about it. Read the rest underneath:
At its core, ARISTOPHOBIA NERVOSA is an exploration of resistance, memory, and the fragility of identity in a time of cultural erasure and social, political and financial unstability and fear. The title refers to a fictional disorder “the fear of those who are labeled with excellence” as a metaphor for society's discomfort with non conformity and intellectual or artistic freedom. Each piece unfolds like a ritual, confronting personal and political anxieties with raw vulnerability. It offers a deeply personal and politically resonant exploration of fear, collective memory, and the struggle for artistic and personal freedom - themes especially urgent in today’s world.
With roots in spoken word and theatrical monologue and the artist’s natural inheritance of Greek Drama, the performances are intentionally expressive, and rooted in breath and body. Each track unfolds as a poetic act, sometimes whispered, sometimes casually spoken, as if over a phone call, sometimes screamed supported by minimal but deliberate production: ambient textures, industrial noise, or dark pop motifs that serve the voice, never overpower it.
As I got the translated lyrics I will drop them here. This way you can enjoy each song more and understand even better (if you don't speak Greeck). First the review and then the lyrics.
Eclectic Amnesia is sung in Greeck (luckily I got a translation): it's about remembering, dropping all kind of questions (almost like a child would). It's also about this: femininity, sexual abuse trauma, adulthood. The song drives on a soft sound with nice but soft drums and a bit of electronics. Towards the end the sound gets warmer (thank to the piano and strings). The drums take sit to a high (togtether with a symphonic touch).
Lyrics:
Do you remember?
It was that coffee shop down in Kypseli, remember?
You know, I didn't quite remember myself
had to look back, way back in time - Who? What? When?
"Take this one," he said. "He’s just like me"
Do you remember?
It was this coffee shop up in Ioannina, remember?
It was raining a lot, or maybe a little, I don't remember- Do you remember the bus stop?
- I remember the couch in your mom's house
We'd laugh until daybreak & I'd cook you breakfast,
Remember? “I’ll take you” I said “You’re just like me”
Do you remember?
My party up on the rooftop? Us against the world, under the starts, against the future
The future left that day, off to Crete, off to Parma, off to Reggio with a bad karma
Until there was none. You left, he left and I was left alone singing to myself
“Why won’t anyone play with me?”
I remember the scent of wet maple wood
Wet not of the rain; wet of his dribble
The boneless tongue crushes them bones
The boneless tongue crushes them girls
Bad teeth crushing them like fruity candy lollypops
Remember? -The hallway felt like an airport terminal
Now happy party people dance away at fomo parties
Why are evil buildings grey?
Why are they not red, yellow or blue?
Blue like the little fishermen's paper boats flirtingly dancing over the cyan sea
Why are they not blue like these?
Why are they not blue like me?
Why won't we sail across the blue liquid vastness under a manga yellow sun?
Candy-Candy with her massive liquid yellow hair
A huge empty headed corpse-girl in fashion eyewear
Why are evil buildings grey?
Why is grey an evil color?
Grey becomes my blue eyes and mourning becomes Elektra
Grey is made with a drop of black in sea of white
It takes but a tiny drop of black and the purest white is white no more
One drop of black and white becomes #44shade of grey - Shade#45 needs two drops
If you like your greys a bit more charming, please add a hint of red
Red lives in poppies, in wax crayons, in lipsticks and temperas
Red like the color of Easter eggs
Red like blood. Once a month. Sometimes twice. Sometimes none at all
That’s how mammals function, that’s how they breed.
That’s human nature. That’s human physiology.
Do you remember what the boys said in school?
“Never trust anything that bleeds for five days and doesn’t die”
The evil that lurks in human nature. The evil that lies in human physiology
Size and strength, bodily proportions, hair distribution, breast differentiation,
voice pitch, brain size and structure, bodily fluids, semen and humour. Humor me,
horses for courses and to each their own, these little girls and those little boys
Little boys can be. Little girls must behave
Little girls must become - and sometimes, maybe, cum
Little girls must be proper
Proper is the adjective of what is appropriate. Proper adheres to polite behavior.
Proper is suitable. Proper is correct of type and form.
Proper is right, proper is norm
Definitions of a dictionary
A dictionary of words, a thesaurus of synonyms
The online satisfaction for the book allergic.
Hear ye, hear ye, Here are the AI tools of global interconnected networks
Hear ye, hear ye, hear routers and switches
Hear the devices that communicate, share information
Here, online, since humans choose to avoid it
Hear ye, hear ye, them who won't sign library cards,
bookmarks, envelopes, postcards and post-its
Hear ye, hear ye. skills on line, line up your imaginary friends
Swipe left, swipe right, satisfaction guaranteed!
Is this the death of margins? The end of red markers? Spelling tests?
Are you drowning said the ad? This must be underwater love!
Use grammarly said the ad, voice to text wrote the sticker, flicker, quick then quicker.
EN 1010, What’s your CI? What's the score? Drop the course? Pass the test? Remember?
Use anything but your head!
Remember?
I thought I forgot.
But I remember.
The sofa, the mosaic floor, the reception, the evil grey building
Evil buildings are grey
-Remember?
Why does wet wood reek? Not of the rain but of his saliva.
-Do you have a boyfriend yet, little one? And what's his name?
-Do you remember?
-You don't remember.
The dead don't remember, You Monster.
Apokathelosis (Descent from the Cross) is a bit like what David Bowie did with The Heart's Filthy Lesson. It's daring, artistic and looking outside the box. It's mixing electronics with vocals (sometimes in reverse) and some magical studio wizardy.
Lyrics:
And then.. I buried everything in the back of my head
And then.. I pretended to forget
I pretend to defend my pretentious amend
and then.. everything came up roses
But nothing's ever swiped away
Nothing will come back for you
like a fateful bad karma
And everything is your fault
The fault is - yours alone.
It’s you
Eight Hours has a roaring sound, heavy bass, good drums, symphonic slices and a dramatic feel. The song is about lies and not living for real, in other words: existential reflection on time, life, fear of achievement and recognition.
Lyrics:
Everytime you fall asleep a tiny little major chord hides in the corner of the room and weeps.
It gets tired everyday, rowing you sorrows and collapses exhausted under you eyelids.
It waits patiently for you to take it up the hill to watch the sunset but you work
You always work
You lied when you said you wanted a house by the sea.
You lied when you said you'll never miss another sunset.
You lie. But you are a fancy liar and you get away with it
Everytime you fall asleep one more email stays put.
It never leaves, flying across the stratosphere to reach the satelites of hope, the desired destination to fulfill its destiny, to fulfill its duty.
Everytime you fall asleep one more wish stays ungranted.
Who do you think you are? A lucky one? A rich one?
Everytime you fall asleep all your chances set themselves on fire in the middle of the village square under the ancient sycamore tree and the village idiot dances with their flickering shadows.
Who do you think you are? A lucky one? A loved one? A lover?
Only lovers are allowed to stay up all night, and that because of love
Everytime you fall asleep you travel 8 hours closer to your death
You do not live, for these whole eight hours.
Just like when you go to work.
You do not live, for a whole eight hours
Nthymion sounds like a song from The Cure (just listen to the bass guitar and the synths: but it's without vocals) and with on top a bluesy kind of feeling.
Mia Karamela (Pastille) is a nice one about the fact that sleeping is bringing you 8 hours closer to death and that you should shoot the sandman in the head for it. A nice spoken word and having the translation makes it all worth it.
Lyrics:
Everytime you fall asleep you move silently 8 hours closer to your death.
You do not live for an entire 8 hours of sleep
Just like when you go to work.
You do not live for these whole 8 hours
Sometimes it is a little bit more: 8 hours, 8 days, 8 weeks and eight months, 21 years and 1 wall; framed papers of Degrees dancing on the wall and everytime you sleep they all gather up on your belly and dance.Syrtaki.
Everyone knows how to dance Syrtaki.
Zorba knows Syrtaki,Mousaka knows Syrtaki!
You thought your degrees don’t know Syrtaki?
Only you don't dance Syrtaki. You who don't dance anymore.
No sunset, no wine, so sea, no love, no starlight, no serenade, no moon, no hope
If only there was pill to cure sleep, a candy!
I'd have a conteiner filled up all the way to the stars packed with sleepingless candy!
I would be sleepless forever!
If only I could have this sleepingless candy.
Everytime I fall asleep my mind forgets it all!
My mind and me:
No thoughts
No songs
No sounds
Maybe so it can bear the thought of me
Maybe so it can bear the curse of me
Maybe so it can stay ahead of me
Maybe so it can watch over me
and then we make it through
my mind and me, and be.
Hush, little baby, don't sound a sigh
Mama's gonna sing you a lullaby
And if your eyes are sore and dry
Mama's gonna get you a dragonfly
And that dragonfly doth sting
Mama's gonna give you melatonin
But if still sleep eludes your chin
Mama's gonne mix with diazepin
And if still Morpheus shames our med
Mama's gonna wipe the tears you've shed
And if still Sandman shuns our bed
Mama's gonne shoot right through your head
To Peramythi sounds until halfway like a lullaby but gets toward the end some horror and some jazz vibes.The song has it's bombastic moments. It's again a song about death and trying to trick it, about: myth, fairy tale, and self-transformation.
Lyrics:
If every Monday
you spent a moment to trust you
then you would start
A trip down your Abbey
Down the hall into your dungeon
In your graveyard
You'd lay on your grave blanked bed
With your flowers around you
And think of your past
You'd weave all those dreams in gold trimmings
Nightmares in sequins and lucid dreams on silk tafeta
If every Mondayyou spent a moment to hear you
You would be sound
Those bells, that Cathedral,
Your Hunchback, your Frolo, your Monks
And your Notre Dame
You'd sing on your lungs as those giants of volume
sound all of your terrors away
You'd tear down these velvet rope blinders
Those fanciful tricksters around you
Your masquerade
Now remember:
If the witch comes for you one day,
ask of her that you leave on a Monday
Pack up your underwear and extra blue socks
Tell her that your favorite ice cream flavor is lust
Lick it all up
Scroll down you ribcage
Sweep left your nipple
Thumb up your sparkle
Firework your shame
I promise I'll sneak in my keyboard
and type her away
Alice in Traumaland is about somebody who tricks horrors and death and that one could be anyone (i won't reveal the end of the story, you'll have to check it for yourself). The music has a jazzy touch, a pop art touch, some teathrical slices and a geste of bombast.
Lyrics:
Narcissist people, Daffodils
they really do love no-one
They do not discuss politics
blood, football games, aromas
Compare them to the Misanthrope
they're the life of the party
‘Cause life it was who promised them
a palace, golden, brigthy
Everyone else seems to be neat
everyone's being useful,
So long as we don't offer them
a chance of being truthful
That's when they become blood thurst beasts
Fangs bared, so mad and furious
That is when they gouge your eye out
And throw it down the sewers
And you'll be left blind, wandering
so leave them while you still can
For they are brilliant and smart
but twice as much they are damned
For it was life who promised them
but they themselves are idle
and once they drown
they'll snatch your straw
they'll clench and pull you under
And God forbid they become friends
Or even worse, your lover!
They'll bend your ear and drain your will
I truly can't be blunter
And once you've sunk these depths of blue
the lowest of the bottom
You'll drown, wondering, pondering
“how did I hit rock bottom?
I was supposed to be someone
a housewife or a mother!
Instead, I'm data variable
of this cold hearted monster!”
Every now & then, she had this death stare in her eye, a black stone
-I would reach our house at noon, I'd hide in the corner and mutter to myself:
“there must be some way out of here
said my toenail to my brow
If there's a door, there is a key
if there's a key there's a hole,
If I can dwell, if I can float
then I can sink, then I can go”
Alice had some lucky charms sewn up her sleeve;
One for every horror she might meet,
and a remedy for any poison she might drink
Alice had a top hat, black and sleek
there she stashed her cravings once every week
and a gameplay sheet for hide-and-seek.
Every now & then she had this death stare in her eye, a black stone
Alice grew sick of luxury,
of her closet stuffed with boxes of shoes
name-calling her mother every sort of lame obscenities
Every now & then she had this death look in her eye, a black hole
“there must be some way out of here
said my gold lock to my tail
If there's a celing, I'll grow thin
If there's floor I'll flatten out,
I can escape, I will be free
On Sundays I’ll miss the china smashing flights
the shouting dinner menu fights
the concrete box we call a home
the only place I’ll never own
Down the first floor, neighboor tattle
up the stairs for gossip rattle
If I did swim into my ocean
I can float like driftwood free
I can merge inside dead vessels
ghostly remnants of that tree
vascular system of fluidity
be dead, but be dry, be chopped up, fried
be dead, perished, expired, but be free”
Alice is a random name
It could have been your name
It could have been me.
Once upon a time in the ugly city
Deep down in her worst misfortune,
she met a Narcissus
But to be quite honest
she could have come asking for help
but when you have a stone lodged down your esophagus..
And she had dreams, oh so big!
She thought she'd make it, oh so sweet!
But she got used drowning, couldn’t float,
with her bones all shattered, rammed down her throat
And then one day, she disappeared!
Vapored into thin air!
Gone forever!
Mintlife Crisis (Spanakopita): mixing cooking stories and reflecting on life and death, whilst a The Cure minded guitar glides by: pushed by electronics and haunting vocals.
Lyrics:
White Flour, Olive Oil, Salt
White Flour, Olive Oil, Spring Water, Salt
White Flour, Olive Oil, Salt
White Flour, Olive Oil, Spring Water, Salt - and one Egg
My mom makes the best spinachpie in the whole wide word
And stuffed veggetables, Christmas honey cakes and trahana
All moms say that they make the best spinachpie in the whole wide world
but only my mom is the best
White Flour, Olive Oil, Salt, White Flour, Olive Oil, Spring Water, Salt
White Flour, Olive Oil, Salt, Love, White Flour, Olive Oil, Spring Water, Salt and one Egg
I lied. She does not use egg in the dow.
I do. I put egg in the dow.
I am the egg. I who ruin everything,
I burst, I explode in the kitchen and splatter all over the walls and the cupboards
with yellow dirty egg mess.
Have you ever wiped your kitchen clean of egg stains?
I cannot explain to you how frustrated I am eveytime I accidentally break an egg
Have you ever seen baby chicks?
We used to be baby chicks, too, once
All golden velvet flufy fuzz and two enormous wide opened eyes filled with wonder
Have you ever seen baby chicks?
You know, I know one day my mom will die.
That's what human do. That's what moms do.
Where do people go once they shatter?
Gather the shards so we can sculpt them into a statue.
A glass mosaic of mismatched multicolored incompatible human egg shells
We too used to be baby chicks, once.
My mom was once a girl, she baked clay into roof tiles and had a green skirt.
A girl don't know if she wants to bake spinachpies, but sooner or later
he will become the talk of the neighborhood baking contest
the oven-pan cat walks, the crown of the best home food pageant
How many slices does a spinachpie have?
How big is the perfect slice?
How big is my heart's slice, the one that yells “Mama” everytime nobody listens?
My mom calls her mom when she's cooking, but she won't hear her anymore.
She is not even in the ground anymore
she's become one with the reeks and rivers, the breeze and the draughts
she dances in the springs like the water fairies do.
What will become of me once my mom dies?
Who will I call out to? Who will call for me?
How do you erase the name from your phone catalogue?
How do you press the delete button?
What is a human?
Is it a button?
Is it a recipe?
Is it water & salt?
White Flour, Olive Oil, Salt, Love,
White Flour, Olive Oil, Spring Water, Salt
A spinachpie
To Gnothi sounds a bit like dreamwave, with a retro synth pop touch. It's a nice one and feels like a bit too short (and that is always a good sign).
Lyrics:
Ι am. / I am a.. / I am a One.
Arrostia is a sad song about a break up. At least she saw it coming ... Lead by a piano and some spooky eletronics. I like the vocal mash up and the vocals in global.
Lyrics:
I was the one who saw it coming
I was not one of those that cling
I was not of those that cry
I didn't count the blows
Didn't mark the dates
I didn't count the days
I was the one who saw it coming
Which May was it you crossed my path?
Which summer followed after?
I really did not see it coming
the day you let you go of my hand
In my dream I saw you went to Malta with another
and I perished at the end of disaster
I'm fading - but can we do it again?
Do me back again,do me in London,
Let's go once more, do you remember?
I would watch you as you were sleeping
Athens looked like Disneyland
and you looked like a child
I was the one who saw it coming
I was aware of of it all
You were not of those who sensed
You were not of those who bled
Darling, you were a monster
Rock-a-bye baby, wwing me again
Call me a lunatic, call me insane
Call me all that you will
Blame it on me, do what you do
Fuck your way into me
Spit on me baby
Brickwall my mouth
Immure me in your basement
Exhibit your clout
Put up your show
Go display your technique
And last before least
Show pretend you really did not realize
You say you never saw it coming
You never really realized
And it's just that no-one told you
And after all, whom are we to blame?
Who would bother judge who?
Both grown-ups, so responsible, and clever, so experienced, aware and all,
adults, you know?
But just come with me to Rome,
One last time
I don't want you to change your mind
I am withering away
Let's go back to London, one day
Call your show one more time
Undress rehearse me
Wash and fade me
Array you luminaires
Floodlight me
Drown and cure me in your forest
Disintergrate and bathe me bright
Your front of house haven is barricaded
I cannot break in, don’t worry, you’ll be you safe
of my drama and my sorrow and my ache and my distress
Hide in you backstage
no one will tag you
and I’ll meddle in the crowd
I’ll know you monitor me from your high tower
Feel free to go about
pretend
year after year
for years to go for years to come
you really did not realize
Well it is what is said in he beginning and it works well, I'm just sad I don't understand Greeck and would love to get an English version of this beautiful album! I was really happy to get the translation and as you can see, Lia Hide really put a lot of work in most of the lyrics (almost like Nick Cave does with his lyrics). I hope you also take time to listen to it as it'ss worth of your time!
Check out this link:
And for the Greeck fans, well listen to this nice one:
Stream Lia Hide | Luister gratis online naar afspeellijst ARISTOPHOBIA NERVOSA op SoundCloud
ARISTOPHOBIA NERVOSA | Lia HIde
