2018
Bandcamp
La musique, c'est encore ceux qui la font qui en parle le mieux. Mais foncez si vous aimez la techno/ambient qui parle de longues nuits d'insomnies et ou l'on frise la folie.
I have insomnia. I take medication that makes me sleep. Without it I will not. It is a reality I came to terms with nearly fifteen years ago, after trying every other method possible for decades before, each more self-destructive than the last. It is part of who I am. Some people are born with a disease. An affliction the pure luck of the draw that is birth has bestowed upon them. For some reason insomnia, like anxiety, depression, or so many other matters of the mind, is deemed something that can simply be changed through sheer will. It is not. And no one, in their right mind or otherwise, would choose to put themselves through the inexplicable torment of not sleeping if they had the choice.
This is an album about insomnia. It is, however, not a proposed solution. Not a cure. It is not something to “help you sleep.” Ours is an affliction not curable by a mere 80 minutes of sounds. If only it were that simple. It is, instead, the tale of a night in that life. Each hour, each step on the path, each milestone in a night that stretches like an eternity while you wish with all your might to make it the blink of an eye it so easily is for the rest of the world. It is the story of the silent struggle... a lifetime's parade of victories and defeats distilled down to a mere matter of hours. The story of memory... the memory of sleep. The calm hypnosis always out of reach, seemingly so readily granted to the rest of the world as you toil alone. One vigil to the next. The story of a night that might as well be an eternity. Each track was recorded in one take at the time of night that bears its name, on nine separate occasions. 50% of all sales from this album will be donated to the Children's Sleep Charity in the UK, the only charity of its kind in the world specifically designating the entirety of its focus and resources on helping children with insomnia. I was diagnosed with insomnia at age seven. But other than handing me a piece of paper with another new stigma written on it, not a thing else happened. Everyone deserves to sleep. Everyone deserves to dream. And no one should have to be afraid to ask for help. From seventy to seven.
