Blackbox

by Major Parkinson

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ashbrino
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ashbrino I haven't been able to listen to or think about any other band since finding this album two months ago, and that very rarely happens for me. Blackbox is a beautiful, nuanced ride through the dark from start to finish... and so much skill and love have gone into it. Thank you for this gift! Favorite track: Baseball.
killernecro
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killernecro I rarely get to such wonderful records, filled to the brim with the thrilling climate of the rainy Norwegian spring and magic, which can not be easily described. Hereby, I recommend it to fans of ambitious and climatic music, no matter what genre you are most eager to listen to. Favorite track: Madeleine Crumbles.
Kaubocks
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Kaubocks Absolutely fantastic album. Listened to it on a near daily basis when I found it. Favorite track: Isabel - A Report to an Academy.
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1.
I will drag your bones across the hill over scorching sheets to make you real I will light the lanterns in the brome peel the hair locks from your comb I will drown the old man and the sea under skeleton rags from Bimini transfixed by marlins in your Daiquiri carry the weight of the world in your hand, what a feeling! in dreams of lavender far beyond the Maple tree I was taking the easy way out, I was proud now I’m kneeling before the glorious refrigerator poets of the world lover, lower me down!
2.
hey! come over to the passenger side I promise this: eternal bliss a kiss will ease your pain descend into the shattering tide in the abyss ephemeris a kiss will ease your pain steady! I think you’re ready, Betty see the moon behind the black confetti when the mourning chimney swallow croons under fluorescent skies steady! I think you’re ready, Betty say hello to the man with the black machete when the diamond hits the silver spoon open up your eyes steady! I think you’re ready, Betty see the moon behind the black confetti silver linings in the hollow noon under fluorescent skies when the diamond hits the silver spoon open up your eyes lover! lower me down!
3.
someone told me long ago you must believe in magic I stared into a tapestry of dinosaurs and cogwheels salamander silhouettes paper planes and rocketships you must believe in magic your creatures made of plastic is the first thing I recall and once in a dream I stole my father’s eyes and I climbed out of the skylight I followed the moon over the rooftops to the silent salamander skies danced in the mist across the asylum where the sirens echoed in the snow so many years ago you must, you must believe in magic
4.
realising happiness and joy is just a construct of a self deception should it keep you from lying? Plato once said: “Carve me a head! Necessity is the mother of invention.” did it keep him from dying? I think you got a problem you got a problem I think you’re thinking too much dont trust a music teacher who is quoting Nietzsche to bear the silence of the scotch I think you got a problem, you got a problem Darwin didn’t love you very much but he gave you evolution and the institution that is your artificial crutch go back to sleep, this is the age of the deep slumber don’t be afraid of the blue skies enter the merry-go-under and see your life through the eyes of Isabel are you the ghost of Vermeer with a table leg staring into the light from above? are you a burning giraffe on the borderline making a mantelpiece for a dove? are you a basket of bread for the afterlife on a cabinet, or a bed stand? hail the hallucinogenic toreador of kitsch! Isabel, show me life, I’ll follow the lights into the hole go back to sleep, this is the age of the deep slumber don`t be afraid of the blue skies enter the merry-go-under through the cracks in the glacial mass where the seagulls collide look away, Isabel! wonderful, wonderful nib pointing up like the manicured finger of Magritte could I write me out of solipsism with some chalk on a floorboard? the yellow lemon stairs to a dead end, inexplicable lady friend name the unnamable object with a word - a word, little parakeet! call her, call her, tell her that you love her madly tell her that you need her badly tell her that you want to be forever call her, call her, call her from your ivory tower high above the virgin’s bower immolate your naked limbs and dance alone I think it’s time you wake up! all the faculty members are here come and see the final lecture we`ll examine the Rorschach redemption of life juvenile dementia when the temporal perception is lost I will guide you through the pictures as we ride through the mouth of Hieronymus Bosch go back to sleep, this is the age of the deep slumber don’t be afraid of the blue skies enter the merry-go-under through the cracks in the glacial mass where the seagulls collide look away, Isabel! lined up by the washing machines, Bleacher Street in wuthering streams Madeleine crumble submarines will preserve all the finest of fabric for the fall lie supine out in a sprawl, carve your name into a snowball as you drift down the moon river quiet like a fly on a windshield in the schoolyard another thesis on Heidegger gave you a voice the structural transformation of the public sphere you dismembered to some extent, you were careless then, like Salvador you lingered in the praise of the classroom, you were dreaming carrying The body of Bertrand Russel through the streets then a lightning came out of nowhere, you were sober you saw the students had evaporated from the seats Isabel, show me life, I’ll follow the lights into the hole
5.
6.
I remember the wine and your tomes of wonder but no nursery rhyme in the book of hunger and as you clung to a twine in your final slumber I said: this leads to a kite up in the wild blue yonder follow the moon, Wind in the Willows in the hollow coriander clouds dance in the mist across the asylum where the sirens echoed in the snow beyond the afterglow you must, you must believe in magic and we danced in the hall of Madeleine crumbles through Joyce’s The Dead and The Lass of Aughrim a sea spell in the the dark for the late Rosetti you were alive as a lark with a thorn of black confetti in your eye follow the moon melancholia
7.
Baseball 10:20
carry the weight of the world in your hand, what a feeling defying gravity with murmurs of the make-belief the showroom glissades in the penny arcade I was kneeling you played the base, I played the ball I was the hunchback on your side you married the mildew and gossamer under the skylight you painted Japanese autumn fire maple trees and kites riparian meadows consumed by the death of a canvas now all the memories are coming back to life again back from the dead, the crowd is waiting in anticipation circus, bread and Bucky Harris on the television ducks on the pond, and Mrs. Truman with a black umbrella and with a crack of the bat comes the main attraction: Ayn Rand, Peter Pan and the ghost of Tully Sparks! deadpan, hidden hand - the pose of Karl Marx brass band plays a Star Strangled Banner in reverse batter up! it’s baseball! paralyzed with joy, marching up the manor marble steps you can see the gleaming pantaloons on the frosted wedding cake anchored to your mind “the party’s over, everyone`s leaving!” see the jives and fisticuffs men and girls who came and went like moths harvesting your dreams of jitterbug flappers as the penguin in the pit pushes you around there’s a choir in your mind that can tell you anything but you can’t always hear the voice that is worth remembering time is running out! there must be some kind of way out of here I traced the intersections everywhere and in a time exposure I was shown a hidden message in the cobblestone and then I woke up in a fevered hypertension to a silent movie on imperial expansion I put my head inside a padded leather glove just like a baseball they picked a bullet from his mutilated shoulder the son of Sisyphus, the pusher of the boulder, stitched him together with a needle and a twine just like a baseball I got his baseball! you breathe the fragrance of your purple cigarettes stumbling through the ballroom of the blind a tapestry of rocketships under salamander skies silhouettes of dinosaurs and cogwheels carry the weight of the world in your hand, what a feeling! now all the memories are coming back to life again the crepuscular rays and the penny arcades and the kneeling you were a domino collapsing like a highrise to the ground oh, what a night! can you feel the music? Puerto Rican boys are dancing in the hall hey Chardonnay, lilac of the seasick! I’m gonna take you from the brim to the dregs month of May, picnic with my best friends a splendid tonic for my violent delirium there’s Hemingway! my resident physician batter up! I’m gonna take you to the moon! it’s baseball!
8.
hey, is it me you’re looking for? I see you’re getting old we were younger then but something came along I was occupied by someone that you know that you know I know you can’t remember anything at all but still the song remains the same now we are salt in a sugar bowl and every motion wears a name in the ever-changing chorus I will play out of tune in a chain of separate lives strawberry suicide hey, was it me or was it you? the story is getting old you were younger then but something made you cold you were occupied by someone that I know that I know you know you don’t remember anything at all, do you? the song remains the same we’re still salt in a sugar bowl and every motion wears a name in the ever-changing chorus I still play out of tune in a chain of separate lives I got something to tell you but I haven’t found the words strawberry suicide
9.
Blackbox 05:48
blackbox, blackbox, calorie chart owls’ talons clenching my heart blackbox, blackbox, hit the bell jar! can you hear me? blackbox, blackbox, Tesla coil kid crying in a pigeonhole that’s what you did in the blackbox, blackbox tap on the lid can you hear me? the raven lock, the brazen lid the rattling chains and the secrets we hid in the blackbox the solid rope, the bridal noose the matter of self and the substance abuse in the blackbox my feather star, you swam too far the tidal bore of belvedere you hiss, you’re breathing you run, you’re swimming you kissed the razor in the blackbox blackbox, blackbox, calorie chart owls talons clenching my heart blackbox, blackbox, hit the bell jar can you hear me? blackbox, blackbox, Tesla coil kid crying in a pigeonhole, that’s what you did in the blackbox, blackbox tap on the lid can you hear me? you’re in the blackbox, fish out of water welcome to dystopia, plain is the color blackbox, blackbox, do the Fritz Lang dance around the pyre with the rest of the gang you hiss, you’re breathing you run, you’re swimming you crave, you crumble you burst, you bubble you took the beating jump rope, hopscotch bloody knuckles, huckle buckle beanstalk miss Mary Mack never came home

about

Blackbox is the fourth studio album by the Norwegian cult prog rock outfit Major Parkinson. Come over to the passenger side, open the lid and embark on an unparalleled journey through cinematic, progressive soundscapes and otherworldly melodies. In the able hands of sound maestro Yngve Leidulv Sætre, this Blackbox has been forged in stainless dark matter and is filled to the brim with musical excess. It is a treasure chest pulled patiently from the ocean floor, through shoals of curious starfish. It’s a night ride through a snowy and moonlit mountain pass, under the pale flicker of oddly shaped constellations.

The seven members of the band have spent the better part of two years creating this album, partly in the legendary Duper Studio, and partly in their own dungeon - Degaton Studio. And the end result is now finally ready to be unleashed on the world. Linn Frøkedal (Misty Coast, Low Frequency in Stereo) contributes on no less than four tracks with her haunting vocals, and a plethora of guest musicians have all added their unique blends to further elevate the Blackbox experience. Frenetic horn sections, angelic strings, rusty hammers, paper planes and rocket ships, this album has it all.

With this release, Major Parkinson gives you an uncompromising work, somewhere in the crossroads between progressive rock, cinematic pop, heavy industry and icy Arctic electronics. Roll out the black carpet!

credits

released October 27, 2017

Written, arranged and produced by Major Parkinson
Recorded at Duper Studio & Degaton Studios
Mix: Yngve Leidulv Sætre, Eivind Gammersvik (track 5)
Engineering: Iver Sandøy, Eivind Gammersvik
Digital editing: Eivind Gammersvik, Lars Christian Bjørknes
Mastering: Morten Lund
Cover design: Martin Kvamme

Additional engineering: André Lund, Lars Christian Bjørknes, Simen Hallset
Pianos recorded at Bergen offentlige bibliotek, Solslottet, Griegakademiet, UiB

Inside the Blackbox:
Jon Ivar Kollbotn: lead vox, piano (track 3)
Eivind Gammersvik: bass, backing vox
Lars Christian Bjørknes: piano, synth, organs, programming, notation, backing vox
Sondre Sagstad Veland: drums, perc, typewriter, backing vox
Sondre Rafoss Skollevoll: guitars, backing vox, microKORG (track 4)
Øystein Bech-Eriksen: guitars
Claudia Cox: violin, backing vox

Also featuring:
Linn Frøkedal – lead vox
Carmen Boveda – cello
Jonas Flemsæter Hamre – saxophone
Joar Lemme – trombone
Gunleik Gisletveit – tuba
Logan Arndt – french horn
Andreas Hesselberg Hatzikiriakidis – trumpet
Nataniel Hjønnevåg – xylophone
Thomas Rolland aka Lip Shaw – whistling
Megan Kovacs – backing vox

Female choir by Volve Vokal:
Thea Meidell Sjule
Idunn Strøm Myklebust
Frida Ekerhovd
Kaja Linder Henriksen
Ann Christin Jenssen
Kristine Norebø
Signe Wiger
Kine Granum
Malene Moen Sætre
Solveig Foldnes Dybsland

Thanks: Bergen kommune, Mads Eriksen, JS Artist, Olav Bleie, Aslaug Irene & Steinar Skår, Jens Erik Aasmundseth, Bjarte Handeland, Kickstarter, Thea Juliana & Petter André, Trine, Silje, Malene, Vanessa, Ane, Cato, friends & family

The 450 society: Debz Love Lewis, David Sheridon, Elise Kristensen, Jørgen Reitan, Charlie Bird, Stefan Stokmo, Kjell Magnus Bjørk, Remy Skovlie, Ken-Tore Kallevåg, Bård Kaspersen, Stein Veland, Martin Prechtl, Thomas Jørgensen, Bjarte Strandtun, Vidar Oma Færøy, Morten Andreas Viken, Sam Garrick, Brage, Henrik Lillebjerka, Asher Park, Eric Samuelson, Thor Egil Leirtrø, Jay Kerschner, Eldar Andre Aspen, Si Ombrellone, Jon H. Poulsen, Lauri Lempiäinen, Jan Weißig, Даня + Рина, Haakon Fredriksen, Maja Grøtting Espestøyl, Aaron Tyrrell, Lasse Faugstad, Yosuke Sano, Jeno Havelaar, Ari Palo, Miriam Landsnes Heldal, Finn Christian Edvardsen, Joseph Wright, Rosie and Graham Sewell, Izzy Vults, Eveline, Njål Grønnerød, Daniel Nystad, Thomas Litland, Ole Bertheus Sørensen, Kai Akira, Meik Bastians, Øyvind Greve, Patrick Bernard, Tony Hopland, Tengill Gjøse, Christian Svabø, Mostringen, Leopold Lian Røbech, Sascha Disselbrede, Eivind Myrtveit, Marie Moe Myklebust, Einar Bjørknes, Lotte Bukve Kjødnes, Ronny Myrtveit, Leif S., Sindre, Micha Käser, Frederick Fjellheim Ulltang, Tobias Laufer, Jonas Ruud Hansen, Benja Appel, Roman Rubinski, Sascha Baldauf, Ian Proudfoot, Lennaert Roomer, Geir Yven, Daniel Schmidt, Corey Gerein, Richard Mehlhose, Terje Kollbotn, Didrik Graham Henriksen, Kai Jerzoe, Sean Vieira, Ståle Roar Leirtrø, Anja Ziski, Harald Olsen, Min Chan Sohn, Bernimont Mathieu, Emma Solheim, Benjamin Striepke, Audun Småge, Ville Pulkkanen, Joseph Pagliaro, Rodolfo Perez Sandy, Jan Espen Fylling, Milla Flesche, Kenneth Valklev, Anne Groeger, Helga Kleppe, Vemund Lamberg

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Major Parkinson Bergen, Norway

Major Parkinson is a particle collider of huge, cinematic melodies, catchy pop hooks, impossible rhythms and psychedelic lyrics. A distinctly different band, with an unconventional, associative and almost irrational approach to the art of writing music.

"Major Parkinson are the Coldplay Cardiacs, with giant commercial songs bent into strange uncommercial shapes" - Prog Magazine
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