Thursday, February 10, 2011

A voluntary prisoner

 I can feel myself having been dragged into that world again. The beautiful, yet diabolic world of the dark and brooding but still so exceedingly vivid aural paintings. The world of Mr. Doctor, the world of Devil Doll.

It happens from time to time. The sprechgesang of the Doctor is so captivating, the tonality of the Devil Doll works so alluring. I have heard them so many times already. I would not be surprised if I found out that I have listened to each of the works literally several hundreds of times already. As I prepare to I hit play, I am completely aware of what journey I am about to embark upon. I know it will be long before I can crawl out of there again. For days or weeks at end, I will not listen to any other music.

It is a sort of contradiction, I know. I push play willfully, gleefully, with the greatest of joy, yet I am incapable of preventing it from happening. I have to push play, I have to let myself be captured in this ravishing realm, I have to experience these tones and words that balance narrowly on the borders of insanity.

And the few moments in which I do not listen to it, passages from them will flow through my mind over and over again, as if it is trying to haunt me. At times, I can even listen to the entirety of one of the pieces solely with the sounds that can be conjured within my mind.

I could write so much about Mr. Doctor and Devil Doll, but I will not bore you with a speech I could do for hours upon hours. Besides, there is so much about it all that feels impossible to convey.

And all of this reminds me that it is about time to see if I can get hold of a certain TV-series. Patrick McGoohan's "The Prisoner".
 

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