Feu Follet - Lost Locust (ft. Vlimmer) (Official Video)

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Artist: Feu Follet
From: Nancy, France
Song: Lost Locust
From the album: Lost Locust
Label: Blackjack Illuminist Records
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Lyrics:
Oh, deep!
Oh, deep!

Lost and alone
In the cellar deep
A locust cries out
In despair and defeat
Wings now torn and tattered
A broken shell
No way to escape this dark and lonely hell

Oh!
Lost locust in the deep
No way to fly
No way to leap
In the darkness you weep and you mourn
Hoping one day you’ll find your way home

A life once filled with sunlight and breeze
Now trapped in darkness
The locust sees a world that’s changed
No longer the same
No fields to roam
No friends to claim

So, don’t give up
Oh lost locust dear
For even in darkness hope is near
And though the way may seem unclear
One day you’ll be free to soar without fear

Are these wings torn and tattered?
A broken shell?
Is there a way out of this lonely hell?

Oh, lost locust in the deep
No way to fly
No way to leap
In the darkness you weep and you mourn
Hoping one day you’ll find your way home

Oh, lost locust in the deep
Is there a way to fly?
A way to leap?


Bio: On his 5th album in four years French electronic post-punk producer Alban Blaising expands his distinctive modular synthesizer sound to give more space to the guitar and create something more rock-oriented with the help of four guest vocalists. Besides Isabelle B. Baumann who is responsible for three dreamy vocal deliveries, you can hear Pat Aubier (singer of Blaising’s dark rock band Hercynia Silva), Pierre Bastien (an old friend of Blaising in his first band 25 years ago) and Blackjack Illuminist label boss Alexander Leonard Donat perfoming as Vlimmer.
Opener “Ghosts in the Machine” (feat. Vlimmer) directly outlines what it sounds like to transfer a late 70s/early 80s underground feeling into 2023. “A dramatic mercurial fusion of multi-layered frequencies concocts an urgent surreal headspace that waxes and wanes on a buzzing and crackling bed of shifting drum patterns, undulating humming low ends, twinkly chimes, bright twisted swirls, and swelling droning riffs laced with distorted wistful weeping guitar melodies, to surround an aching vocal agony of alienated baritone broods, soft sentimental cries, and distant angsty echoes, with unpredictable sways of ever-changing dystopic moods.” (Catt Gillette of White Light/White Heat)