It’s simple: two songs, two record sides and whole lives in flanger lines.
On their first record ‘Deimos Phobos’ the band R. Daneel Olivaw tells universal stories. (Sailing for Peace)
NEWS
new dates coming up! next shows:
13 nov 2024 la coutellerie, fribourg
16 nov 2024 helvti, winterthur
21 nov 2024 cafe bar dots, göttingen DE
22 nov 2024 carinisaal, lustenau AT
29 nov 2024 spinnerei, bern
30 nov 2024 bad bonn, düdingen
06 dec 2024 kiff, aarau
our latest record:
"RDO" was released on 10/27/2023. check it out
Das R steht für Roboter, sagt die Band. Sonst eher so pychedelische vibey Gitarrensachen: Denk ans Autofahren in der Nacht, denk ans Zigarettenrauchen über weite Strecken, denk an Sichzeitlassen und Wildherumspringen. Denk vielleicht ans Meer. Leider ist «treibend» ein Scheisswort. Ja, so ungefähr ist das. (Café Kairo, Bern, 2021)
She had not known what to expect. Sometimes in later years, when she could endure it, she tried to recapture the magic of this moment. She could never be sure if she had succeeded.
At first it seemed that she was hearing the deepest note of a giant harp whose strings were stretched between the worlds. It sent shivers down her spine, and she felt the little hairs at the nape of her neck stirring in that immemorial fear response forged in the primeval jungles of Earth.
Then, as she grew accustomed to it, she became aware of a whole spectrum of shifting overtones covering the range of hearing to the very limits of audibility - and doubtless far beyond. They blurred and merged one into the other, as inconstant yet steadily repeating as the sounds of the sea.
The more she listened, the more she was reminded of the endless beating of the waves upon a desolate beach. She felt that she was hearing the sea of space wash upon the shores of all its worlds - a sound terrifying in its meaningless futility as it reverberated through the aching emptiness of the universe.
And now she became aware of other elements in this immensely complex symphony. There were sudden, plangent twangings as if giant fingers had plucked at the ribbon somewhere along its thousands of taut kilometres. Meteorites? Surely not.
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photo: giulia spek
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