Maurizio Bianchi Armaghedon album is the soundtrack to the year 1984. The documentation of a profound personal battle against the cloying inhumanity of the world, a world wherein we really have built our own hell.

Armaghedon was the soundtrack to a film that Bianchi was working on. A film that never was completed or published. The original vinyl album almost never was made public. Maurizio destroyed the majority of the original three hundred copies. Some did get out though. The album became a kind of emotional diary of a period of despair. An emotional samdizat of the spiraling descent of one man’s soul.

The two twenty three minute tracks that grace the vinyl are murky, claustrophobic, dense drones with grimy waves of polluted chords. The use of heavy delay and echo give the whole album an air of a shifting vapour of metallic haze, that slowly engulfs the room. The vast echoing delayed electronics fill the air with a cloying phantasm of despair, decay and corroded hope. Audible through this dense smog is distant synths that push against the darkness. Disembodied voices flit across the second track, scrambled human voices that are buried within the morass of sound. Towards the conclusion of the second track an almost beatific synth sweep emerges from the laborious miasma. The voices congeal into a melange of ghostly phantasmagoria behind choral refrain and then like that. It’s over. There is no conclusion. It just cuts out. Silenced forever.