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Anatomy Of A Tear


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Readymade 05:56
Summer sweeps. A serenade carved in jade. Clouds exchange white scraps in slowmotion. For a moment nothing can be more real. For a moment i forget to feel. Sun looks down. White pupil inside a halo. Blinded eyes. A paralized paradise. For a moment nothing can be more real. For a moment i forget to feel.
All odorous beneath the rain. Under what skies the foreigner makes his way. Remembering old times lost in broad daylight. Memories of water. I am violet over the grave. This is not my home. This cannot be my home. This never was my home. Under what skies the lover wanders aimlessly. Before help could come. Awake! The demon shall flee all red before the water. Shining hesitant on the edge of the world. The next life waiting. To what end the refugee. Take another road in a different light. The fool keeps going, trusting, grieving. A long way from home. An empty address book. The other come singing in a different light. This was not my home. This could never be my home. This never was my home. When I held the river in my hand. Drew up it’s threads into my palm.
I have been over the rainbow and I found nothing there, but thin air. I have seen the clouds from above, the wind and waves from underneath the sea. But I haven’t found you. You must be hiding. I haven’t found you. You must be hiding from me.
This night I am alone in my, this night I am on my own in this other world. Set me free. I want to leave. Other world. Otherworldly.
A million was the opening bid. To name the place in which you hid. Reveal the secret, lift the lid. Expose you for the things you did. Mad mad mad mad mad Madrid. Ba ba ba ba Barcelona. Rode iron horse down to Cadiz. Direct, inject, flamenco fizz. Delivered large, they did the biz! Jesu-jetters, Billy whizz! Mad mad mad mad mad Madrid. Ba ba ba ba Barcelona. For one long night in mad-Madrid! The damage was a thousand quid. I won’t tell you what they did. Edu and the kiwi kid. Mad mad mad mad mad Madrid. Ba ba ba ba Barcelona. Lost my heart in Barcelona. To Gaudi’s guru’s favorite daughter. She made a man out of a loner. In ba-ba ba-ba Barcelona!
He walked on down the corridor. It was cold. Cold, dark and long. He passed by many closed doors. He felt alone. He was. He wondered about the doors. What went on behind them? And what was that haunting music that played inside the rooms? One day on his journey, which by now had taken many years, one of the doors swung open. Tentatively, he looked in. There was a blast of cold air and the door slammed shut in his face. After that he tried not to think of the doors and the rooms and the music and with stoic resolve he ventured on. Not ventured really, more like, slouched. The corridor seemed endless. He started to shiver and in that moment he could not help but think of a place that he had heard of in stories. A place that was warm, sheltering and all aglow with something that some people called ʻloveʼ. On and on he went. An eternity seemed to pass and then, finally it happened! Another door opened before him. Only this time there was no ʻswingʼ involved. It was more of a gentle sway and in that action lay a welcome so warm that it melted the ice in his heart. Transfixed, he moved towards this opening but there was something in his way. In the gloom he found it hard to make out the details of this blockade. Gradually though, his eyes became accustomed to the lack of light and he saw that the thing that impeded his progress was nothing more than a pile of small rubble. The rubble was made of broken dolls. Gently he cleared them away. Then, taking a deep breath, he entered the room. It was the most beautiful place that he had ever seen. Candles bloomed aglow illuminating the peach coloured walls and for the very first time in his short, long life he felt at peace ... at one ... at home. He stayed in the room for many blessed seasons and many wonderful things happened there. Everyday he would bask in the radiance of this sanctuary and everyday he would thank his lucky stars that he had happened upon it’s threshold. He was however, a most curious fellow and after a time he found that he ached to stray. So he would leave the room and embark on brief exploratory excursions. Sometimes, some of the other doors, doors that previously had remained closed to him, would creak open and he would go in. He would never stay for long and he would always return to the room with the beautiful glowing light, for he knew that there lay his true heart’s salve and love. Despite all of this, the other doors still haunted him, especially the ones that had remained closed. There was one door at the end of hall that intrigued him most of all. It was dark and mysterious. Frightening and fascinating in equal measure. He knew that this would be the last room that he would ever enter. The door loomed there like a monolith. Now, time is a funny thing but when there is more sand in the bottom bowl of the hour glass than the top, the punch-line starts to look less amusing. He knew that it would not be long before he opened that last great door. The door at the end of the corridor. There were fireworks going off in his head as he realized that there was only so much sand to go. So little sand and so, consequently, very little time in which to investigate all the rooms that lay behind all the other doors. So once again he made the journey. He was compelled to do so. Driven, in fact. Lashed with a whip called ʻmortalityʼ, he had to go and look! Now when he opened the other doors, a chill wind would blow back down along the corridor. It would creep into the beautiful warm room where he had lived for so long and it would make the candles gutter and die, but still he would persist in his desirous, raging voyage and although he knew that the song that he heard, that cheap, sexy, smokey song full of bruised sunsets and city neon, that illusive little song that called his foolish heart, was one which issued from the lips of the treacherous sirens, there was nothing that he could do but sail. Sail towards the rocks that lay beyond that final looming door.
Peel back layers of sound. Behind your eyelash i found, in a grain of sand, the tiniest tear gland. I drink from the tiniest tear gland.


A mix of dark triphop and postrock-influenced "songscapes"

What do Blaine L. Reininger (Tuxedomoon), David J (Bauhaus), Graham Lewis (Wire) and Jarboe (Swans) have in common? Aside from each being highly influential underground icons for decades, while remaining architects of a sound that’s currently inspiring many young bands, they all feature on “Anatomy of a Tear”, Strange Attractor’s 3rd full length album.
The attitude and lust for experimentation that sets these artists apart from the mainstream or the latest hype has always been inspiring for Niels van Hoorn and Richard van Kruysdijk, the duo that created Strange Attractor in 2004. Although both were and are involved in several other bands and projects, Strange Attractor soon became their main focus. Since 2006, Strange Attractor has toured Europe five times, headlining in eleven different countries.

Niels van Hoorn was a long-standing member of The Legendary Pink Dots from 1988-2010 and worked with Lydia Lunch, Mark Spybey (Dead Voices On Air), Cevin Key (Skinny Puppy) a.m.m.

Richard van Kruysdijk is a member of both Sonar Lodge and Phallus Dei, as well as manager of the record label Music for Speakers. These projects have earned him piles of rave reviews and international recognition.

Niels and Richard have also always followed their own path, however contrary the musical environment may have been at times. It is exactly this attitude however, that allowed them to make their mark in the world of adventurous music and allowed them to work with so many beautiful artists along the way, including the wonderful vocalist and regular guest Marie-Claudine (Sonar Lodge) and bass player Jurriaan Dekker. Both feature on three tracks.


released September 5, 2011

Strange Attractor:
Niels van Hoorn and Richard van Kruysdijk

Blaine L. Reininger
David J
Graham Lewis
Jurriaan Dekker

Recorded by Richard van Kruysdijk, Niels van Hoorn, Sandor Caron
Arranged & Produced By Richard van Kruysdijk
Mixed & Mastered by Peer Rave
Graphics by Richard van Kruysdijk

C+P: Music for Speakers & Big Blue Records 2011


all rights reserved



Music for Speakers Netherlands

Music for Speakers was established in 2000 by five acts who share a common view and attitude towards music and serves as a platform to release their adventurous, genre defying sounds.
Music for Speakers operates from Eindhoven in the South of The Netherlands and is run by Richard van Kruysdijk.
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