We've updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Album- [self​-​titled]

by Cinema Strange

supported by
Mister Stir
Mister Stir thumbnail
Mister Stir This album was an essential in my young adult years. I'm so glad it finally arrived on Bandcamp Favorite track: Aboriginal Anemia.
DaniHell thumbnail
DaniHell One of my favourites in my teen years! What a memories ;) great album Favorite track: Lindsay's Trachea.
Christie thumbnail
Christie One of the best albums I have heard in my life! Favorite track: Sadist Sagittarius.
sabinianmoonstone thumbnail
sabinianmoonstone Cinema Strange has left its mark in the gothic subculture and it will continue to do so. There's an incredible amount of musicianship and the composition of each song is incredible. With Lucas' vocals, Daniel's wonderful and distinct bass sound, and Michael's spectacular guitar work, this album is just sublime. Favorite track: Moundshroud.
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $1 USD  or more


1. You sit watching your brother die 'cause he chewed on sickly rabbit. Poor boy Parzifal likes to hunt his sister, and so infection sets in like a gang of wolves licking at the heels of the anemic aboriginal hunting grounds where you sprain your thumb throwing rocks at cadavers. Bashing in my weakened knees. Bashing in my weakened knees... (chorus) Animal people scale the walls so easily: your bitter family. Holding court without your cousins... reprimand your viral sanction. Anxious ears solicit thee, my snarling spies sit down to tea and ignore the bubbling sores that swell and spit along your backbone. 2. Call your general, fortify his skin so my disease can't penetrate your china shack of ignorance and purple turbans. Split the bread between your chins, annihilate bacteria, eating, breeding serfs and peasants; bloody plague boys stealing crumbs. Bashing in my weakened knees. Bashing in my weakened knees... 3. Stripling arrows ricochet off teeth and crystal nighttime goblets. Dinner party, dinner guests, eat their dinners facing west. You fling your curses forth, and they are swallowed by the Masque, by the tree, by the hollow oddities. Bashing in my weakened knees. Bashing in my weakened knees...
Moundshroud 05:57
1. Tom Skeleton, come, it's time to have some fun. So grab your trick or treat- the day of the dead has begun. Carapace and clavicle, Moundshroud takes you there. Lady Egypt fascinate and gargoyles in the air. (chorus) Tommy-boy, eat your candy skull! Tommy-boy, eat your candy skull! Tommy-boy, eat your candy skull! Tommy-boy, eat your candy skull! Carapace! Clavicle! Carapace! Clavicle! Carapace! Clavicle! Carapace! Clavicle! 2. Instantaneous, intravenous, fear... in the moon black suit. You see the leaves and taste the wind like dead-bone scattered loot. Crack the best, your whip's the test, flee from mummy's arms. Under his knife, beware the scythe and Samhain's other charms!
Nightfalls 03:52
1. The light goes out against the backdrop, the victim's eyes are plucked. While animal smiles sing appraisal, the pagans dance like bastards dance. The nighttime chorus laughs aloud, before they start the requiem... shadows spread their fingers and welts are raised beneath the dusk. (chorus) Rats in black capes dance like thieves along the path beneath the trees. The batcave reeks, stark and empty. The plague is out, the beasts are bled. 2. White lace children are weeping... the light has waned so miserably. Men whisper words of envy; they lack infatuation. Thirteen knots off of hallowed ground and death at the end of the act. The web is spun, the spells are cast, and the witches rave like lost and broken. 3. Sordid secrets mark the coven, black earth... and the raven flies. Sabbatical systems shroud the catch and cloak like funeral garb. The wind is witness like a passing disease and the bracken stings so intimately. Malevolent filth, fetish frenzy, razors, whips, and finger tips. 4. Lanterns fade at the end of the rope and eyes that glowed once shift their gaze. Dogs lie fat from the gnawing of bones and flies bring heat to the chill of decay. The last of the wolves fight for night but the hours seep forth screams for dawn. The men look hard, lick their teeth, and the curtain folds like a leather eclipse.
1. No prey from understanding vats of men. The victims bite their tails and find no flesh to witness. Teeth and claws all seeketh out the one to neutralize their standing underneath the promenade where horse and man all bleed the first course... understanding... flesh to witness... bleed the first course... (chorus) I cannot fall when the vats are full. My eyes are rolling back, the lives that stole themselves shall look for me. Their fingers: neutralized, aroused, know the way to serve the first course. They bite their tails no longer. And I fall down. 2. I walk alone, I've walked alone. To tread as lightly, bring forth detection. This serial mind, replay the scene- I'm loathe to witness. No end for me... all alone... bring forth detection... loathe to witness...
En Hiver 02:45
1. I love to hate you, I am in winter. Frostbite hath claimed me, succumb to numbness. (chorus) Freezing men don't laugh at murder. Bleeding, naked, in the bathtub. Open windows tempt the savory... women's heads float just as easily. 2. Within the confines of crystal, reflected is my loathing. Under ice and still, chill waters, fish bite stiff men and children. 3. In the fog, in the woods, at midnight... in a land where it's always winter, I cut the thin skin of my ankles and the sting follows me like army. Lashing like a bullwhip in the arctic, I fling icicles like bee-sting. Trapped in the glass of the sphere in the snowfall, I shut my eyes and sleep in sleet. J'adore detester, je suis en hiver...
1. This is what I reign on your behalf, so that you may breathe... the blood that gathers at your feet, the high-pitched screams of agony. (chorus) I'll drag you down with me, too. I'll make you drown with me, too. I'll drag you down with me, too. I'll make you drown with me, too. 2. This is what the slaughter looks like, you've sent it home with me. You've seen it in my pictures; bent hostility. 3. This is my indoctrination. Henceforth the tendon's cut. The times when muscles fell from hardbone, the time has come for surgery. No, no! No, no! No, no!
(the tale of the) Mediterranean Widow 1. Over the eyes of the slow slipping under... the dead call their names... A motley assembly of specters and wraiths! Twice in the morning the old widow screamed... footsteps on floorboards and damp in the dust of the sill... Nobody, nobody's there. Nobody, nobody's there. "The deep-dwelling spirits are here, and their moans have stirred up the silt on the graves of our husbands! Their fingers are ice, and they constantly tell of the fact that their saga left no one to spare." Nobody, nobody's there. Nobody, nobody's there. 2. Ignorant maids in the morning laugh wonderfully, lightly, reflecting the chill of the old widow's screaming man drowning. She trusts not the wind, who's loving embrace only tore deep and then fled in fear. Nobody, nobody's here. Nobody, nobody's here. "I pray with the skill of a funeral guild, and my eyes have run dry from long hours reeling! I know not the time, for the seasons have spun me and trussed up my wits... and there's salt in my hair." Nobody, nobody's there. Nobody, nobody's there. (refrain*) "I line the shore like waning winter! There's salt in my hair and no one is near." "I am the eastern sky, I am the twisting sea. I go alone, look, there's nobody here but me." "I 'm skipping merrily, logical atrophy. And I'm alone, there's nobody here but me." "I line the shore like waning winter! There's salt in my hair and no one is near." "I am the eastern sky, I am the twisting sea. I go alone, look, there's nobody here but me." "I'm swimming merrily, logical atrophy. And I'm alone, there's nobody here but me." "I line the shore like waning winter! There's salt in my hair and no one is near..." (*to be sung alternately by the widow and the ghost of her drowned husband)
Hebenon Vial 05:00
1. Stuck on with dynamite... live in disgrace like the fool that you told you to. Dancing like philanthropist... and cutting and scraping the dogs that lick at you. Padlock the door to the basement and swing down the stairs on the back of the lizard and... watch every inch... when you are building the walls that cover you. (chorus) Shine like a dagger and poison in woodland, and laugh like a wet-nurse with a sword through your breast. Funny like thumbscrews and ripe guillotines, and maidens when drowning and electric chairs. Murder most foul! Incestuous sheets! Hebenon vial! 'Twere madness discreet! 2. Consanguinity... and the bastard's aloof with a nose just like a pig's. Assassins are sleeping... and the man in the orchard's a king with a queen. Giggling beastly and prey on the birdy fly low over stone and banshees... Hopscotch for bombs in your bed and believe what you hear from the pervert who hides under... 3. Batty and bruises on cheek, and the porcelain shards of the sink stuck in your face. Shoelaces dragging in wet and the cold of the dungeon allures like a finger. Holding in calm dimension the harrowing phantom aloft in your courtyard. Fading in crown... rapier... he stills the blood of the 'jack that runs through your veins.
(Setting: Manhattan sky-rise; the plush, expensively furnished inner-office of Dr. John Lindsay, esteemed psychiatrist and eccentric New York socialite... He is about to die.) (The Players: Dr. John Lindsay- as described above Arkham Deadfly- the good doctor’s murderous alter-ego ...and assorted flies, larva, beetles, rats, and shadows.) Doctor Lindsay "Oh, isn't it nice... falling and hating me? Here, breathing the air of Lindsay's trachea! Oh, rendered and torn, spilling my glass to the floor... hands in my hair pulling and patiently dying! "‘Why are you here?’ were my words and I screamed them. ‘Could you destroy a man in mid-day?’" Arkham Deadfly "Dreaming and evening, so are we twins! Listen: I whisper; your lips how they twitch! The doorway is swarming with larva today, seething and screaming as friendly men play! I am the empty, thou art the thin! We are the bending blade stuck in your ribs! Thou art a tempest, I am the wind! We are the fallen man tortured and skinned! "I have run this way twice before... and always the rats wading through dust. Doctor silent and still, were you calling to me? The skies overhead have been crowded with wings, but hear the flies how they sing! I've inched my way through mist before... and always the bugs leading my lungs. Doctor silent and still, were you calling to me? The skies overhead have been crowded with wings, but hear the flies how they sing!"
There is blood on the hooves of the fawns on the Greensward Grey, for they tread through the gristle on the lawn today. Don’t they see the roseate faces of my wives as they lay disemboweled on the Greensward Grey? This park is rank and slippery. Skip and watch the kite-tails, don’t trip on the entrails. White and ligamental blossoms jutting from the earth... when have toadstools ever grown toenails? These brains are old and tired but they have not forgotten my harem from decades past, sundry screams for the beast in the back seat. Springtime is mythical, blood can be pastoral; brushed on and painted, after they’ve fainted. Pan-goats are criminal, hairy backs and abysmal breath like a brown bog, swamp-soaked and wet dog... There is one woman walking on the Greensward Grey, but I feel she’ll be followed by a friend or three. Don’t they see the pink-spittle coating on my teeth that will seal every kiss from my lips today? I could classify dead, hoofed animals, I could catalog female corpses, but catarrh ruins my breath when grasses reach and start my ending. I could classify... I could catalog... I am sitting like a cyst on the Greensward Grey, and my god, there are satyrs who are damp and fey! Iron-shod and so hysterical, they lose themselves like dripping red fauna.


Originally released by Trisol Records (Germany), this album collected the band's EP from 1996 ("Acrobat Amaranth Automaton") and the songs on the two vinyl singles released in 1998 ("Mediterranean Widow"/"Hebenon Vial") and 1999 ("Lindsay's Trachea"/"Greensward Grey").


released January 1, 2000

The first six songs (the "Acrobat Amaranth Automaton" EP) were recorded and mixed by Erik Richards and Mark Hashimoto.
Tracks seven and eight (the first vinyl single, from 1998) were recorded and mixed by Bob Reich.
Tracks nine and ten (the second vinyl single, from 1999) were recorded and mixed by Ashkelon Sain.
All songs written, arranged and performed by Cinema Strange.
All lyrics by Lucas Lanthier.
Additional instrumentation on "Aboriginal Anemia" and "Nightfalls" by Erik Richards.


all rights reserved



Lucas Lanthier Vienna, Austria

Digital discography for the Deadfly Ensemble and Lucas Lanthier.

contact / help

Contact Lucas Lanthier

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Report this album or account

If you like Album- [self-titled], you may also like: