43:04 - 8. ...vom freien Willen eines schwarzen Einhorns
Rasluka - Part I and Part II were brought to sound from 3. - 5. June 2001
As a parting are to be dedicated to R.S. (25.9.1976 - 9.9.1995) who hanged himself and to Ronald Belford Scott (9.7.1946 - 19/20.2.1980), who after a night of drinking suffocated on his own vomit.
For more information about this album in deutsch, english, français & español see www.nargaroth.de and check the \"Releases\" section.
The Rasluka series presents the attempt to interpret one of the most difficult experiences in my life, namely the passing of a very close friend of mine and we all know such as a friend comes rare in life. In addition, the series contains thoughts from my perspective about the life and death of a musician, who played an important roll from my youth to today. Rasluka is the phonetic morphology for the Russian expression of \"parting ways\" or \"Farewell\". The released works under this name should be rightfully understood in content as such. Originally released in two parts in MCD format, the current “Rasluka~Unity” album combines both on one album.
2002 MCD Booklet Text:
When I received the message of death on the evening of September 9, 1995 and consequently in a rush of pain newly \"remodeled\" my residence, I didn't suspect how extensively this event would influence me. I repressed and tried to forget what happened, yet directly from the dark empire of repression came a substance so manipulatively effecting my spirit that I dare say my social or coexistentual incapacity can be partially traced directly back to a powerlessness born on a mild September evening. A few hours before the tragedy R. came to me asking if he could leave a few pieces of his HiFi equipment with me because a court official was to visit him and he wasn't prepared to give it up. Shortly after he made his way I was already curious as to which pieces lay in the cellar, but I didn't want to go behind my friends back and go through the property he had trusted with me. Later, it must have been a few weeks after his suicide, Charoon was with me and we spoke, like so often, about the event. Then I remembered the cartons still waiting in the cellar. We decided to carry them up and open them, but even on the way up out of the cellar I realized that something was wrong. Because as Charoon easily balanced a carton with one hand, my carton's weight was giving me considerable problems. As we opened them we found in one carton some t-shirts and longsleeves from R. and in the other his entire music collection, from CDs to cassettes to video tapes. I must not mention what this moment and its corresponding realization destroyed in me. To this day I ask myself if I could had prevented this tragedy had I thrown away my decency on the day R. brought me the cartons and simply opened them.
