The Years

by Those Darn Gnomes

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    CD in jacket with additional artwork by Robert Fludd.

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Every day is the same I can see the future because every day is the same Wake up and begin the routine Every day is just as it seems Out of options, imbalanced Trying to weigh the possibilities Of what it takes Faith is slipping Frustrated by uncertainty Wake up and begin the routine Every day is just as it seems
Deep is the sadness that gloomily comes over me, Again I slip, Lord, into your house. Long was the journey, my limbs are weary, The shrines are empty, only against is full. My thirsty tongue desires wine. The battle was hard, my arm is stiff. I feel air from another planet. I faintly through the darkness see faces Friendly even now, turning toward me. And trees and paths that I loved fade So I can secretly know them and you bright Beloved shadow—summoner of my anguish-- Are You only exhausted completely in deep glowing In the frenzy of the fight With a pious show of reason. I lose myself in toils and tones, circling, With unfortunate thanks, I give Blessing Beneath desires, I feel myself to the great breath. A violent wind passes over me In the thrill of combat where I lay in the cries In dust flung on me by women on the ground: Then I see a flame’s mist rising In a sun-filled expanse That includes only the fairest mountain hatches. The land looks white.
We’re your friends. Wait for work and family carry. Replied in name-only thing, Owe his hands into your parents. Without will, it made him smile, Smiling like a little girl. She prayed, she hoped they would: They shook their hands, they were going. She asked…but for later. Pulling the heart. Carry it before it closes. We’re your friends. Wait for work and family carry. Fainted. Please, God, take his… He argued, stunned, waiting for something. It was hard to say nothing had happened before, When we could understand it; Stay home and meet them. Shipping early ones. “Does it take its seat?” she wondered. Excuses the group, invitations were both on time. Father…Father placed it. He caused so much trouble.
I keep my good eye open. Who can tell? There might be someone in the night. What was that? The dropping of a leaf? Or a footfall in the darkness? Is someone there? No. Only the shaking of a leaf. I keep my good eye open just the same. Tomorrow, maybe. I keep my good eye open. Who can tell? There might be someone in the night. No.
There are no saviors Only witnesses They gather all around Awaiting failure No one ever seems to notice No one even cares
Witness the cold scale lament And eyes doing battle with anything that’s left No stranger to the finer things Or Earth’s sweet novelty But I’ll find a way to let you know who’s coming for me Answered, crying, mumbled, grinning I'm sorry, no more On either side of the door Since you've been alone The morning's twin Nothing to live with me Longing for the return, sighing, waiting Monday morning like no other I'm still asleep standing up, But you've been gone since then If I could only find the place where I can remember She's not telling you no anymore It's hardly a surprise But I insist However long it takes No more, on the other side of the door Since you've been alone This morning's twin Nothing to live with me Longing for the return, sighing, waiting Gasping for air, Begging for more Upon hearing the will It looks just like you And no matter how tall I build it up It just gets closer and closer Staring I'm cold now, numb to the advances Since all you wanted was to watch Take it and walk away Tell us all about it. Was he gentle? Did you cry? Close the door and maybe you'll feel better What is not yet another, instead her own... I should know better by now Sorry Maybe it meant something else At least I thought Her eyes fell into view from behind the mirror She'd been peering through Witness the cold scale lament The pain only deepens (To let you know who’s coming for me) She’s not telling me anything anymore It’s hardly a surprise But I insist How long does it take? No more on the other side of the door The morning’s twin Nothing to live with me Longing for the return, singing and waiting Gasping for air


On their debut album The Years, San Diego’s Those Darn Gnomes craft a potent and highly original blend of extreme metal and avant-garde music unlike any other. Drawing influence from a wide range of artistic aesthetics and utilizing just as many advanced compositional techniques, The Years bridges a multitude of musical styles into a surreal, damaged whole. Fractured guitar riffs slip and slide over clattering electronic percussion while torrents of Brad’s and strings rain down overhead, but the album is not without dynamics; these six songs are just as likely to break into gorgeous cinematic interludes as they are to kaleidoscope further into spiraling, noisome art-metal. Far more than just the sum of its many parts, The Years is a powerful opening statement from a controversial voice in avant-garde music.


released May 12, 2015

Those Darn Gnomes are:
Mark Steuer – vocals
Christian Molenaar – flute, guitar, saxophone
Russell Case – bass
Bryon Wojciechowski – V-drums

Recorded at Apollo's Crotch.

Cover painting by John Martin, 1841.

Praise for this album:

"What words can describe an album of this caliber? At times ethereal, at others brutal, simultaneously intriguing and off-putting, The Years is one of the most challenging works of art I’ve experienced. [...] However, in challenge there is the promise of reward, and The Years delivers that reward in full for those brave enough to delve into its depths."
-Toilet ov Hell (#3 album of the year)

"It sounds like I died and went to hell."
-Bryon's dad

"...this is not music for the pop charts. It’s an elegant deconstruction of death metal’s parameters. It’s brawny and aggressive, but matches those traits with a penchant for softness which reminds me of post-metal champions Isis. [The songs] eschew traditional song structure, and play with such dissonance it calls to mind a Gorguts cult favorite."
-also Toilet ov Hell

"I guess it's pretty good for that kind of music."
-Russell's mom

"I love straight ahead, kick-in-the-chest metal as much as the next guy, but there comes a point where we as music consumers should ask ourselves, 'Ok, what else is there?' Then the universe will lean down and whisper back, 'Gnomes, bro. Those Darn Gnomes.'"
-Toilet ov Hell, again (they like us a lot)


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