Berlin duo Lyhre released a restless and gloomy single.
In Greek mythology, the dead, getting into the underworld, drank from the river Lethe and experienced oblivion. This track is like a map guiding the way to this river. Inside a deep urban-industrial dark dream, under a gray, dusky sky, a train rushes, and it’s impossible to get off of it. There’s the cold kosmische electronica pierced by the apathetic, hopeless vocals, as if Beth Gibbons recorded the soundtrack for the first story from “Subconscious Cruelty.” Sometimes, through the broken windows of this disquieting, pulsating train, the long, eerie needles, like at 02:24, penetrate your skin. And towards the end of the track, from the apocalyptic slums comes a tired, arrhythmic beat of a worn out human heart. It seems like Lyhre gave us one of the greatest and most frightening epitomes of anxious expectation, and through all the pain and uncertainty reflected in the lyrics, sometime and somewhere people will be forgotten and calm.
