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**2019 stock** Robin Storey, co-founder of Zoviet France and a very prolific solo artist since his departure, is combining his love for krautrock with his love for French film. An hommage to the Nouveau Vague cinema with a soundtrack that for the first time incorporates real drums! Another radical change for Rapoon. Always evolving, always progressing.
"Cigarette smoke curled into the air which was filled with the sound of many typewriters, all clattering away, yet the sheets of paper remained blank. Everything was black and white and every shade of grey in between. The men and women wore pristine white shirts and black trousers. The ceilings were low and opressive. The cigarette smoke hung in the metal rafters. These was the offices of the Existential Police force. The sign, which curved in an arch above the exterior entrance, read “We Know You Did It”.
Officer Delane Trelawney looked down at her next interrogation sheet. She was tired. It was almost the end of her shift. The space which was labeled “suspects name“ read Elizaveta Ektimova. The space which was labeled ”reason for interview” read Dissident. Officer Trelawney sighed and looked across the desk at the figure sitting in the upright chair opposite her. The figure was that of a thin young woman with very black hair and very pale skin. Her eyes were set far apart and deep. They were almost black. Officer Delaney spoke: “Give me the answers... Give me the answers.” A long pause... “You know why you are here... Give me the answers.”
The young woman leaned forward slightly and when she spoke it was as if from very far away. Her voice sounded like a badly tuned radio, her words modulated on a carrier wave which came from another place, perhaps even another time. “There are no answers... We live in the dark... We live in a dream...”
The words sent a chill through officer Delaney and a thought rose from deep within her ,like a bubble rising up from the depths of a dark lake. It rose and rose until it burst on the surface and for a moment Delane Trelawney saw above her a beautiful blue sky with pure white cotton wool clouds floating in it. Along the shore of the lake arose green hills and behind them mountains towered up into the vault of blue. Topped with snow they were pink in the afternoon sun. Delane Trelawney gasped at the beauty and just before she began to sink again into the inky depths she said “I remember... I remember... Tell Charlene... Tell Charlene...”"