Dead Can Dance
Owen Pallett
Hamferð
Bonobo
Tori Amos
Xploding Plastix
Skunk Anansie
Deerhoof
Myrath
Féleth
Ooofff, vanskelig! Men tror dette er ganske representativt.
The Misfits
Death
Tom Waits
Acid Bath
Solstafir
Bad Religion
Garbage
Thåstrøm
Slayer
System of a Down
Dead Can Dance
Owen Pallett
Hamferð
Bonobo
Tori Amos
Xploding Plastix
Skunk Anansie
Deerhoof
Myrath
Féleth
Ooofff, vanskelig! Men tror dette er ganske representativt.
For litt "lokal teknisk dødsrock", fra eneste bandet jeg veit om som har en refleksvekst i merchen sin (den står det "dødstrygg" på).
For litt "lokal teknisk dødsrock", fra eneste bandet jeg veit om som har en refleksvekst i merchen sin (den står det "dødstrygg" på).
Feleth gikk i hvert fall rett inn i spillelistene mine!
Feleth gikk i hvert fall rett inn i spillelistene mine!
Ther is namore to seyn, but west and est
In goon the speres ful sadly in arest;
In goth the sharpe spore in-to the syde.
Ther seen men who can Iuste, and who can ryde;
Ther shiveren shaftes up-on sheeldes thikke;
He feleth thurgh the herte-spoon the prikke.
…
Ther is namore to seyn, but west and est
In goon the speres ful sadly in arest;
In goth the sharpe spore in-to the syde.
Ther seen men who can Iuste, and who can ryde;
Ther shiveren shaftes up-on sheeldes thikke;
He feleth thurgh the herte-spoon the prikke.
…
In derknesse and horrible and strong prisoun
This seven yeer hath seten Palamoun,
Forpyned, what for wo and for distresse;
Who feleth double soor and hevinesse
But Palamon? that love destreyneth so,
That wood out of his wit he gooth for wo;
…
In derknesse and horrible and strong prisoun
This seven yeer hath seten Palamoun,
Forpyned, what for wo and for distresse;
Who feleth double soor and hevinesse
But Palamon? that love destreyneth so,
That wood out of his wit he gooth for wo;
…
Let him be war, his nekke lyth to wedde!
How greet a sorwe suffreth now Arcite!
The deeth he feleth thurgh his herte smyte;
He wepeth, wayleth, cryeth pitously;
To sleen him-self he wayteth prively.
He seyde, 'Allas that day that I was born!
…
Let him be war, his nekke lyth to wedde!
How greet a sorwe suffreth now Arcite!
The deeth he feleth thurgh his herte smyte;
He wepeth, wayleth, cryeth pitously;
To sleen him-self he wayteth prively.
He seyde, 'Allas that day that I was born!
…