Ahead of their visit to the UK later this month, The World Is A Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid To Die has released a new track titled ‘Augeries of Guilt’.
It’s the first slice of new music from the Connecticut-formed emotional indie/post-rock collective in three years, following ‘ Illusory Walls’. The sextet have a history of writing elaborate story-heavy songs and ‘Augeries of Guilt’ is no different. Its narrative takes a poignant exploration of “villains” killed by those seen as winners, despite their deplorable actions. “The people in stories that get labeled as heroes are often brutal killers, capable of extreme greed and cruelty on behalf of their allies’ and their desires,” Vocalist David Bello explains. “This song tries to smudge historical and present-day conflicts with the emotions of loss and vengeance. It’s about the queasy feeling of rooting for a matador, the unease at the prospect of voting for a president when the lesser-of-two-evils has been enabling genocide, and the dystopia of an AI called Lavender determining its own morality of family annihilation.”
Bello’s thought-provoking lyrics and complemented by an ever-dynamic style with sprawling guitars, and Steven K. Buttery’s accentuated drums.
TWIABP will be in the UK later this month for two shows in Scotland before appearing at the Outbreak Festival in Manchester.
June
28th Stereo, Glasgow
29th The Mash House, Edinburgh
30th Outbreak Fest
‘Augeries of Guilt’ Lyrics
The crickets made our song,
daily rhythms like a band,
until these heroes come along,
spilling sewage in our land.
Tell the kids there’s a messiah.
Tell the soldiers it’s their boss.
Two hectares of olive groves
and Lavender cutting costs.
Yell out as loud as a weather god,
a thunderstorm, an avalanche,
an Anzu bird, a bull,
a bomb inside a cadillac.
Like the hero
killing the guardian
of the forest,
set a white hot flame
to the cedars,
reduced to wasteland.
Like the hero
killing the guardian,
an omen of an omen.
From slung stones of child soldiers,
names engraved into the sun,
to smart bombs against Goliath
in paradise and beyond.
From the mother of the Jordan,
through the white stone tomb.
A plate in bed, a fighter jet,
a wake in someone’s living room
for the death of a villain,
mourned with fragrant rose.
Burning sacrificial herbs
to light the maggot in his nose.
Bones from stone, blood from sea.
I want more life in between the trees.
Bring sweet words to the quarrel.
Friendship burns with special oil.
Above the column of limitless fire
to the animal womb, hungry and tired.
Ensnared by craving through countless earths,
hastening through this round of rebirths.
The great screaming, the great heating.
A bright pearl with dust covering.
Like the hero
killing the guardian
of the forest,
set a white hot flame
to the cedars,
reduced to wasteland.
Like the hero
killing the guardian
of the forest,
set a white hot flame
to the cedars,
reduced to wasteland,
an omen of an omen of an omen.
