"Mask" si propone come un disco meno allucinato di "In The Flat Field", meno eccessivo e meno urticante, tuttavia ciò che perde in impatto lo acquista in fantasia (lugubre) ed originalità. Pur contenendo alcuni classici del macabro che resero liete le schiere goth dell'epoca, Ash e soci (su tutti il batterista Kevin Haskins) di sovente intessono trame sonore decisamente calde, tribali.
La batteria con l'uso massiccio di tempi reggae e ska, fusa con il canto vampirico di Murphy, crea un effetto magico, il cui unico limite è lo sfociare talvolta nel grottesco, e conoscendo i nostri non possiamo escludere una velata ironia a giustificazione. L'inizio sparato di "Hair of The Dog" inganna, essendo un brano una delle classiche mazzate che furono di "In the Flat Field", lasciando presagire un sequel. La successiva "Passion of Lovers", brano tanto semplice quanto gradevole, ci incanala in una musica meno stordente ma ugualmente toccante, decisamente più viscerale. È il classico chart crasher, e ben presto si rivela uno degli inni Bauhaus. Lo ska malato di "Of Lilies and Remains" inaugura il mood del disco, "Dancing" con una parte di sassofono suonata da Murphy lo contrappunta con un ritmo da tornado.
"Hollow Hills" è il primo capolavoro del disco, e rappresenta l'esatto contrario di tutto quel brio caraibico, seppur viziato da ombre, di "of Lilies and Remains" appunto, "In Fear of Fear" e "Kick in The Eye". Le Colline Sacre dei Bauhaus ci vengono suonate con un incedere da requiem. Murphy è incredibile nel trasmettere questa overdose di rassegnazione ed esoterismo senza scadere in uno spettacolo fine a se stesso. Echi lontani da fuoco fatuo e un impalcatura sonora che praticamente non esiste, essendo padroni assoluti gli effetti e non gli strumenti, incorniciano l'avvertimento ai comuni mortali di non turbare il sonno lugubre delle colline. "In Fear of Fear" e "Kick in The Eye" come detto sono l'altra faccia della medaglia, con i loro ritmi ballabilissimi impreziositi da chicche di elettronica povera. La deflagrazione rabbiosa di "Muscles in Plastic" rende a dovere la fisicità del disco, con un ritmo serrato e rabbioso. "The Man With the X-Ray Eyes" è più goth che non si può. Il pulsare di basso ricorda Siouxsie & The Banshees, cosi come la voce sciamanica e gli scampanellii dolcemente infernali che aprono e chiudono il pezzo, all'insegna di un terrore urbano, popolato da inividui emarginati e raccapriccianti.
La cesura è affidata alla title track e questa è decisamente il picco del lavoro tutto. "Mask", con termini e tematiche differenti, riesce a raggiungere le claustrofobie, la pesantezza, la splendente cupezza, dei PIL di "Albatross" o "Flowers of Romance", nonchè di "The Funeral Party" dei Cure o di "Decades" dei Joy Division. Musica semplicemente intollerabile questa, serie senza fine di implosioni che una fine poi la trovano, in un arpeggio di chitarra che spezza il cuore. "The Shadow is Cast", declama Murphy rassegnato e appagato masochisticamente dalla propria disperazione.
Divertente e talvolta geniale nelle sue divagazioni "tribali", insuperabile nelle parti oscure, questo è "Mask".
Elenco tracce testi e video
01 Hair of the Dog (02:43)
The man who was mortally wounded in war
Kept on fighting
The man who was cut to the quick by love
Kept on loving
The man who was merciless tortured by thoughts
Kept on thinking
The man who was crippled with concern
Kept on caring
Hair of the dog
Hair of the dog
Hair of the dog that turned
Hair of the dog
The man whose eyes were sore from obscenities
Kept on looking
The man whose heart bled, killed by compassion
Kept on feeling
The man whose legs buckled under exertion
Kept on running
The man whose ears burned to the sound of his own name
Kept on listening
Hair of the dog
Hair of the dog
Hair of the dog that turned
Hair of the dog
02 The Passion of Lovers (03:53)
She had nut painted arms
That were hers to keep
And in her fear
She sought cracked pleasures
The passion of lovers is for death said she
Licked her lips
And turned to feather
And as I watched from underneath
I came aware of all that she keep
The little foxes so safe and sound
They were not dead
They'd gone to ground
Chorus:
The passion of lovers is for death said she
The passion of lovers is for death
(chorus)
She breaks her heart
Just a little too much
And her jokes attract the lucky bad type
As she dips and wails
And slips her banshee smile
She gets the better of the bigger to the letter
(chorus 3x)
The passion of lovers is for death said she
03 Of Lillies and Remains (03:18)
In the marbled reception hall I received a three band gold ring, from Mark. A token of esteem. Running through ghost closet locker rooms, to hide from Peter, who has fallen to the old cold stone floor, wheezing and emitting a seemingly endless flow of ectoplasmic white goo from ears and mouth. A wind rushes through the hall, whistles as it breezes through the narrow slits in the green locker doors. I hide in one of these, number thirteen.
Barely concealed but hopeful
Blackout
Blackout!
I will clinb this high wall
In rememberance of Clancy
To regain or re-earn my life
As I died just a flicker of an eyelid ago
The wall has many holes
And many foot pieces to fasten to
The wall is dangerous, and this is my penance
My penance and my task
I did it once and they wondered
Yet I need to go, once more around
Up breathtakingly
Across rigidly
Down easily - and foolishly
I endeavoured again
To climb the wall in vain
And capture back my chain
Of lillies and remains
Of lillies and remains
Of lillies and remains
04 Dancing (02:29)
Dancing on hot tiles
Dancing on tender-hooks
Dancing down church aisles
Dancing on holy books
Dancing on crocodiles
Dancing on hallowed ground
Dancing Nyjinsky style
Dancing with the lost and found
Dancing on rock'n'roll's grave
Dancing on burning coals
Dancing on 'Jesus saves'
Dancing with old scratch soul
Dancing on flick knives
Dancing a stiletto groove
Dancing our nine lives away
Dancing in the Louvre
Dancing in catacombs
Dancing in tuxedo drag
Dancing in dark rooms
Dancing on all your flags
Dancing in the Vatican
Dancing on the papal gown
Dancing on the taxman
Dancing on the crown
We're dancing to the dark side of this tune
We're dancing to the dark side of this tune
05 Hollow Hills (04:48)
ancient earthwork, fort and barrow
discreetly hide their secret abodes
the most fearful hide deep inside
and venture not there opon yuletide
for invasion of their hollow hills
that music hold, and oberon fill
is surely recommended not
for fear of death, in fear of rot
hollow hills
hollow hills
hollow hills
hollow hills
baleful sunds and wild voices ignored
ill luck, disaster, the one reward
violated sanctity of supermen's hills
so sad, love lies there still, so sad- so sad
hollow hills, hollow hills
witches too, and goblin too and speckled sills
lament, repent, oh mortal you
so sad, so sade (fade out)
07 In Fear of Fear (02:58)
You fear the lesson
And fear to walk
And fear to pass on
Your fear to talk
The teacher was feared
Your parents too
Then you became
The fear of you
Fear
Look to yourself
Climb over the wall
And see behind
That you're not so small
Then you won't blame fear
When competing's too much
As you fall on your back
As you fail to touch
Fear
And I say to you
When your fear is strong
When you fear your life
Then your fear is wrong
Set free your past
So shredding the skin
Then you won't fear
The fear of sin
Fear
08 Muscle in Plastic (02:51)
Gonna be like a dog
Lay flat on my back
Pull my feet off the ground
Let my head hit the sack
I'm muscle in plastic
Nyjinski's bad move
Just a white show piece
I've got nothing to lose
I preach for the praise
Can't laugh so I gaze
Like a bad offset
I'm just counting the days
I'm a muscle in plastic
Nyjinski's bad move
Just a white show piece
I've got nothin, nothing to lose
Sonar blips on my arms
My head's increased
Just a hotel inmate
I'm the lover deceased
I'm the latent impression of a dancer's leg
I like faking persuasion
And laying my bed
I'm a muscle in plastic
Nyjinski's bad move
Just a white show piece
I've got nothing to lose
10 Mask (04:36)
The man of shadows thinks in clay
Dreamed trapped thoughts of suffocation day
He's seen in iron environments
With plastic sweat out of chiselled slits for eyes
From the growth underneath the closed mouth
You'll catch if you listen
Rack-trapped cubist vowels
From a dummy head expression
From a dummy head expression
The transformation is invested
With the mysterious and the shameful
While the thing I am becomes something else
Part character part sensation
The shadow is cast
12 Ear Wax (03:15)
Hazy four o'clock shadows
Commence the seance
Nine lives on the spirits
'Til the desert suns prevail
In every scream eternal
Locks out boredom forever
Paints your fishes black
It's so exciting
Separate hearts
Midnight
Midnight close
Almost crying
Underneath the vine
Fly like the jet
The tan and white
Evening
I hear whistling
In my ear wax
Seven shapes
Black
15 Satori (04:36)
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