The tolling bells ring with a hollow knocking echo up the brick walls of a cold well where spiders skate on the surface illuminated by a cold veil of stars. The vibrating waves spread through the air and settle like a ghostly dust on the wingtips of crows who purr and coo from their branched stadium where they survey the movements of mice in the dry grasses below. Deep bass piano tones dirge their moaning sadness across moors and highlands where the dark bats swoop from the sky and open wide and wider their tiny mouths to feed on the insects of the souls who dared to doubt the power of the Darkness.

Choirs of automaton voices flow like steam from the pipes of the organ at the altar of sacrifice. Bleeding feedback from modern instruments who attack the air with distortion and overdrive turn staid fields into grinding orgies of skeletal abandon and pleasure. Flesh upon flesh grinds towards ecstasy as drums beat and cymbals enchain the limbs of naked dancers who indulge in intercourse beyond the carnal hive and above the common coils of humanity.

The melody of Gothic tears is always beating and flowing and swallowing victims as an overfed river charges into the dens of baby foxes and destroys the nests of ground hens. Compositions of the darkest sadness and waltzes of the brightest suns gather together in the albums of Gothic history. From the unknown composers forgotten in their torment to the popular balladeers and minstrels of stone aged rock who achieve stardom through the naive commercialism of the modern cliche. This is our song and these are our words.   

• Gothic Movies
• Gothic Music