While A Bleeding Star can perfectly arrange and create tracks with an astounding pattern of lurid gray desolation, the truthful sense of ever growing anxiety and affliction that his songs pass on to the listeners is simply beyond unbelievable. While transporting every ordinary soul to another dimension with his nervous, doomed and psychologically disturbed incoherent sounds, I always point it out his increasingly remarkable ability to tell a story combining two prominent characteristics: an exceedingly large title, with the right mood proper to it. The song titled “Ever Feel Like Conjurin' An Escape that Makes thee Disappear from thy Physical Shape?” A Bleeding Star creates, compounds and saturates the air, the ambience and the cosmological shape of his exhilarating groundwork of dying nothingness, with the most outrageous reverberation of darkness, setting up in all castles of the galaxy of his unforgiving creativity a symphony of deadly shadows cast out from the fears, tears and agonies expelled from the darkest regions of his mind. Nonetheless, a conspicuous and fatalist element of serenity can be seen wandering lost throughout the inhumane conformity that inherently breathes through these untimely fields of ghostly premonitions, masterly arranged by the sordid atmospheres created by these greatly doomed set of songs, aligned to submit to reason the understanding of your soul’s decadent glory.
On the other hand, the track titled “Too Fuckin' Sad to Sing...Too Fuckin' Dead to Care 'Vhat Anyone Thinks...How's that for Honest?” seems to be a lullaby for all the melancholic restless whisperers out there, designed to make eternal an infinite season of never-ending mornings of gray and protuberating disillusions, rearranged by fragmented patterns of vibration that makes sorrowful delusions an ephemeral drowsiness of lethargic transparency, willing to calmly prepare the listener to sleep, and put him in a dream state of permanent expectations, never to wake up again. And soon you will be caught in a realm of foreshadowing blizzards of eternal damnation, forever trapped in an unreal place of hazardous, cruel and laborious configuration, brilliantly created by Alex Goth, the horrifying designer of labyrinthine kingdoms and otherworldly dimensions, capable to bring to existence the most abnormal patterns of reality with the dark excellence of his lurid music.
Mesmerized by a transient sound of ambiguous and terrifying ambivalence, it is impossible not to be caught, seized or astounded by the incredibly exhilarating tone of A Bleeding Star misanthropic sound, on his Mindtripsonic Treasures to Celebrate the Audible Delicacies of My Evergrowin' Desires. Able to create an atmosphere of gloom and melancholy, with this album you will travel to dark abysses, and pass by the most obscure nebulas in and around the universe, through a fascinating journey of inspiring transcendental rapture, cornered by a sense of purely speculative hallucinations, and exposed nuances of melancholic self-discovery. A Bleeding Star albums, besides being an amazing work of art, are fractal transient moments of inexistent hours, where space and time align together to create another level of infinite demise, where the doomed antagonism of all unreliable souls are coherently redeemed, and allowed to stay forever in the fallible reign of a glorious despondency.
For his outstanding ability to take the listener to another level of cosmic existence, A Bleeding Star remains undefeated in the symposium of the great Dark Ambient artists ever. With a corrosive wave able to achieve the pervasive center of your afflictive emotions, here you have the tracks that will lead you to a desert filled with unknown places, that were hidden inside your soul, and you never knew about it. Let A Bleeding Star pull out that places for you. And enjoy the journey. If you are able to endure the pathway, and of course, its consequences.