The nights of hell
Proto-Punk × Krautrock with Gothic Post-Punk undertones, tempo about 128 BPM, cold, monotone and raw female voice, delivered with heavy metallic reverb for an unyielding, detached sound, distorted garage guitar, deep echoing bass, minimal motorik drums, tape warmth, spoken-sung phrasing, emotional intensity, late-night krautrock with 80s post-punk haze; Arrangement: long instrumental passages, repeating patterns, minimal harmonic changes
The nights of hell
Proto-Punk × Krautrock with Gothic Post-Punk undertones, tempo about 128 BPM, cold, monotone and raw female voice, delivered with heavy metallic reverb for an unyielding, detached sound, distorted garage guitar, deep echoing bass, minimal motorik drums, tape warmth, spoken-sung phrasing, emotional intensity, late-night krautrock with 80s post-punk haze; Arrangement: long instrumental passages, repeating patterns, minimal harmonic changes
Lyrics
Verse 1
Down the long quay the slow boats glide,
While here and there a house looms white
Against the gloom of the waterside,
And some high window throws a light
As they sail out into the night.
At dawn they will bring in again
To women knitting on the quay
Who wait for him, their man of men ;
I stand with them, and watch the sea
Which may have taken mine from me.
Pre-Chorus
Just so the long days come and go.
The nights, ma Doué ! the nights are cold !
Our Lady’s heart is as frozen snow,
Since this one sin I have not told ;
And I shall die or perhaps grow old
Before he comes.
Chorus
One night was ours, one short grey day
Of sudden sin, unshrived, untold.
He found me, and I lost the way
To Paradise for him. I sold
My soul for love and not for gold.
Bridge
He bought my soul, but even so,
My face is all that he has seen,
His is the only face I know,
And in the dark church, like a screen,
It shuts God out ; it comes between ;
While in some narrow foreign street
Or loitering on the crowded quay,
Who knows what others he may meet
To turn his eyes away from me ?
Many are fair to such as he !
Chorus
There is but one for such as I
To love, to hate, to hunger for ;
I shall, perhaps, grow old and die,
With one short day to spend and store,
One night, in all my life, no more.
Outro
Just so the long days come and go,
Yet this one sin I will not tell
Though Mary’s heart is as frozen snow
And all nights are cold for one warmed too well.
But, oh ! ma Doué !the nights of Hell !
Lyrics: Pécheresse by Charlotte Mew (1869 – 1928)