Echoes of the falling Stars

by Daal

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1.
2.
08:41

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released October 16, 2014

Music by Alfio Costa and Davide Guidoni


Alfio Costa: Grand Piano, Mellotron M400Sm, Minimoog, Hammond organ, Synthesizers and Samplers.
Davide Guidoni: Percussives, samplers

Produced by Alfio Costa and Davide Guidoni - Engineered and mixed by Alfio Costa
Recorded and Mixed at TL studios - Bergamo- Italy, and Kaiphametro’ studios – Rome- Italy, from July 2010 to December 2010

Mastering by Hamadi Trabelsi at Red Rose Studios, Rudiano (BS) Italy
Art direction, design and illustration by Davide Guidoni

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DAAL Italy

the fifth disc of Daal will be titled '"Dances of the drastic navels" and will contain' the eponymous suite of about 30 minutes. We're recording all the parts, and of course will be 'full of guests. The album will be 'a decided return to the sounds' of the first two records, "Disorganicorigami" and "Destruktive Actions Affect Livings". Soon more news about it. stay tuned!! ... more

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Track Name: The fall of the House of usher
I.
In the greenest of our valleys,
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace—
Radiant palace—reared its head.
In the monarch Thought's dominion—
It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair.

II.
Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow;
(This—all this—was in the olden
Time long ago)
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
A winged odour went away.

III.
Wanderers in that happy valley
Through two luminous windows saw
Spirits moving musically
To a lute's well-tuned law,
Round about a throne, where sitting
(Porphyrogene!)
In state his glory well befitting,
The ruler of the realm was seen.

IV.
And all with pearl and ruby glowing
Was the fair palace door,
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing
And sparkling evermore,
A troop of Echoes whose sweet duty
Was but to sing,
In voices of surpassing beauty,
The wit and wisdom of their king.

V.
But evil things, in robes of sorrow,
Assailed the monarch's high estate;
(Ah, let us mourn, for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him, desolate!)
And, round about his home, the glory
That blushed and bloomed
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.

And travellers now within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows, see
Vast forms that move fantastically
To a discordant melody;
While, like a rapid ghastly river,
Through the pale door,
A hideous throng rush out forever,
And laugh—but smile no more.