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LP
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RSR 046LP
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"Antoni Maiovvi's The Dead Of Winter is a semi-faux soundtrack album in the vein of the British composers more classically cinematic works. Sonically the album resembles a sort of Deathrock Danny Elfman locking horns with Howard Shore piloting Sunn O)))'s dopemobile... at night... in the fog. The Dead Of Winter is a collection of unused themes made for a very real movie that for various tax break reasons were unable to be used. Not wanting to waste the work already completed, the cues were finished without picture and arranged here as their own narrative, with the idea to transport the listener to a snowy, isolated, old building filled with secrets and demons."
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2LP
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CVAN 012LP
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2LP version. This is the third album by Berlin's Anton Maiof aka Antoni Maiovvi. The Thorns Of Love is an ode to a broken heart that embraces Italian drama and euphoric fear. His music exists somewhere between Patrick Cowley's Hi-NRG epics, Arthur Russell's melancholic beauty and John Carpenter's traumatizing soundtracks. Antoni Maiovvi is the name by which Anton Maiof unleashes his bastard offspring of disco and psychotronic horror, and here with The Thorns Of Love he has produced a deeply personal symphony to love lost and the sanctifying power of the dancefloor. Antoni Maiovvi is a nefarious creature of the night, a figure of twilight opulence and the love child of Evelyn Thomas and Lucio Fulci conceived in the lurid backrooms of the Boccaccio Club. The sweatbox is in his DNA, throbbing analog circuitry courses through his flesh like rivers of blood and where his heart once lived there is now only yearning for the alchemical marriage of sex, death and technology. From Naples to Frankfurt, he has stalked the dancefloors of Europe, planning this moment -- and at last, in this compendium of unbridled fist-clenchers, his time has come. Now he will stop at nothing to bring his arpeggiated talisman down onto the souls of men, squeezing out that last breath of humanity in a pulsing, Dantean dance-macabre. The Thorns Of Love takes a unique, muscular and cerebral approach to electronic dance music, bringing together the Italo love explosion, spine-tingling Euro-horror and the melancholic proto-techno musings of early Model 500 and "Sharevari." Maiovvi takes the helm of this noir-tinged Trojan horse, carving out a dancefloor machine with commanding synth-work, operatic drums and mind-bending atmospherics. As the album climaxes and the smoke pours across a crowded room, he steps out from the shadows and delivers his final eulogy to 20th century hedonism, preaching with the unhinged vocals of a coked-up Brian Ferry. Love may be the drug, but for Maiovvi, death can be the only future.
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CD
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CVAN 003CD
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This is the third album by Berlin's Anton Maiof aka Antoni Maiovvi. The Thorns Of Love is an ode to a broken heart that embraces Italian drama and euphoric fear. His music exists somewhere between Patrick Cowley's Hi-NRG epics, Arthur Russell's melancholic beauty and John Carpenter's traumatizing soundtracks. Antoni Maiovvi is the name by which Anton Maiof unleashes his bastard offspring of disco and psychotronic horror, and here with The Thorns Of Love he has produced a deeply personal symphony to love lost and the sanctifying power of the dancefloor. Antoni Maiovvi is a nefarious creature of the night, a figure of twilight opulence and the love child of Evelyn Thomas and Lucio Fulci conceived in the lurid backrooms of the Boccaccio Club. The sweatbox is in his DNA, throbbing analog circuitry courses through his flesh like rivers of blood and where his heart once lived there is now only yearning for the alchemical marriage of sex, death and technology. From Naples to Frankfurt, he has stalked the dancefloors of Europe, planning this moment -- and at last, in this compendium of unbridled fist-clenchers, his time has come. Now he will stop at nothing to bring his arpeggiated talisman down onto the souls of men, squeezing out that last breath of humanity in a pulsing, Dantean dance-macabre. The Thorns Of Love takes a unique, muscular and cerebral approach to electronic dance music, bringing together the Italo love explosion, spine-tingling Euro-horror and the melancholic proto-techno musings of early Model 500 and "Sharevari." Maiovvi takes the helm of this noir-tinged Trojan horse, carving out a dancefloor machine with commanding synth-work, operatic drums and mind-bending atmospherics. As the album climaxes and the smoke pours across a crowded room, he steps out from the shadows and delivers his final eulogy to 20th century hedonism, preaching with the unhinged vocals of a coked-up Brian Ferry. Love may be the drug, but for Maiovvi, death can be the only future.
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