This unassuming CDEP was made available at the recent Toronto shows,but the people working the merchandise table were mysteriouslytight-lipped about its contents. The packaging contains no informationother than arcane Coptic Greek text printed in gold on a blackbackground: "PSHOUO NMEHPSAITSHOMTE: NTNAU NH�TP MPR� AHENJ�U EUK�MOUEM TPE."
Durtro Jnana

There were also T-shirts for sale with this same cryptictext, untranslatable to all but the most diligent esotericists. Afterseeing Current 93 play all three nights, and popping this CDEP in forthe first time, however, it became quite clear that this was a brandnew Current 93 single, taken from the forthcoming studio album Black Ships Ate the Sky.David Late Tibet and friends are long overdue for a new full-length, soit's very nice indeed to see something surface, a new release ratherthan another in a long line of re-released repackagings of remixed,reshuffled remasters. And luckily, the new material sounds utterlybrilliant: a return to form and some of the best music Current 93 hasmade since 2000's Sleep Has His House. It is clear from the first few seconds, however, that Black Ships in the Sky does not repeat the same minimal, ascetic instrumental palette as Sleep or Soft Black Stars,much to my relief. As much as I loved those albums, I was always hopingthat Current 93 would revisit the fuller, richer, more compositionalarrangements of classic albums like All The Pretty Little Horses and Thunder Perfect Mind,and that is exactly what I got on this single. The EP contains only oneseven-minute track, divided into two sections. The first has DavidMichael describing at intense apocalyptic vision glimpsed at sunset inhis sixteenth year, against a lovely backdrop of fingerpicked guitarand disarmingly gorgeous swells of viola and cello. Though there are nopersonnel listed on the sleeve, I am guessing that these are thecontributions of Simon Finn, William Breeze and Joolie Wood, talentedcollaborators all. As the track passes the three-minute mark, thingssuddenly become dark and nightmarish, and the music becomes a series ofnoisy, staccato string stabs, electronic pulses and the searingelectric guitar work of Ben Chasny (of Six Organs of Admittance andComets on Fire). David Michael screams and curses his fate, wishing invain that he had been "unborn," straining and cracking his voice,crying out in the abyss: "Who will deliver me from myself? Who willdeliver me from myself?" It's very intense stuff indeed, and bodes verywell for the upcoming album. - Jonathan Dean

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