Paternoster, that UFO of a rock album released unceremoniously on a custom-pressed CBS Austria long player in 1972, is the stuff
of legend. It's been known to the rock collecting elite since the 1980s, when it was first rediscovered, and it quickly became one of
those rock records, the records you hear about only if you know someone who knows someone with a copy, much like Damon's Song
of a Gypsy.
Paternoster is a terrifying album, a collection of songs that traverses the sublime, and thus necessitates a bowel-loosening acceptance
of beauty too complicated to merely admire, bowing under the weight of a tremendous atmosphere, accentuated by Gothic organs and
scorching fuzz guitar, punctuated by wailing vocals detailing visceral, Bosch-like images, and carried by enveloping bass and
syncopated, mixed-well-too-loud-and-thankfully-so drums.