Intro to Advanced Poetry

by The Nietzsche

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"Over in fewer than fifteen minutes, it really feels like The Nietzsche have put their best foot forward, pulling no punches and going straight for the knockout. It’s difficult to criticise simply based on how little there is of it Intro To Advanced Poetry. Perhaps there were other song ideas; other poems they tried and didn’t work and these were simply the five songs that did, so they went ahead and cut all the fat, leaving a lean and tasty steak for us to enjoy." — The Monolith (

"There isn’t much I can say for such a short release, but I can summarize it well in a few sentences, which should be enough for you knuckleheads. The song writing is good, although spastic, it still manages to have a massive sense of rhythm and groove. I can just picture this band playing live and all of the punks and freaks just rocking out and going berserk. The Nietzsche is good and this release is just a sample of what these guys are about…I honestly want more." — Headbang or GTFO (

"Intro To Advanced Poetry starts off dark and moody with Mayakovsky II, before W. Whitman kicks things up with fast riffs, discordant tones and corrosive screams. Lord Byron and Edgar Allan Poet are exceptionally heavy and catchy, though the latter is more instrumentally distinct and angular. Final track Oscar Wild is the most emotive and unpredictable, encompassing a wide range of structures and tones that, much like the band's entire aesthetic, converge in an unusually successful way. Intro To Advanced Poetry is a strong and eccentric effort, displaying the Nietzsche's unique approach and potential." — Exclaim! (

"I’ve never been interested in poetry, but I think it’s clever how The Nietzsche is able to present it all in such a way that isn’t lame or boring, so I think that’s pretty creative and unique. The production was done well as all instruments and vocals were audible and clear, even the bass. The vocals and individual drums and cymbals were loud and brash, which fits what The Nietzsche’s sound is. I absolutely loved the vocals on Intro to Advanced Poetry because of how all over the place they were. There is a certain rawness Eugene has that carries emotion and primitive power. Both of which drive the songs’ hardcore sound." — Pig Squeals and Breakdowns (

"Lord Bryon is the album’s definite highlight. It is full of energy and you can hear quite a bit of stylistic changes despite only being a minute plus long. My favourite part is at the ending where the singer and the guitar were toe to toe on an awesome battle of volume. This track kept my attention way past its duration." — Metal Temple (

«На треке по Уайльду такие переходы творятся, что тут только Паттон приходит на ум. Хотя у нас в городе теперь есть свой. Ритм-секция вырывает куски из плоти музыкального рисунка, цепляясь крепко в горло слушателя, и держа до тех пор, пока тот готов внимать литературному контексту. А потом настает облегчение и новый цикл влияния и внимания. Эти треки можно гонять по кругу бытия, потому что они действуют уже нигилистически привычно. То есть, они не убивают, а делают сильнее». — ARTMAGEDDON (

«Безусловного уважения заслуживает сама идея проекта, в котором засветились вокалист и басист гораздо более известной Septa: вместо авторских текстов ребята использовали лирику вышеупомянутого Владимира Маяковского (как и в своём дебютном сингле, который вышел ещё в июне 2013 года), Оскара Уайлда, Уолта Уитмэна, Джорджа Байрона и Эдгара Аллана По. Для меня несомненным является тот факт, что в таких случаях работать с «чужой» лирикой гораздо сложнее: уложить её в структуру и ритмику собственных композиций, не имея большой свободы действий, которая характерна для собственноручно написанного текста». — (


released September 1, 2015

Eugene Tymchyk - vocals
Aleksey Elanskiy - guitars
Dmitry Ulyanov - bass
Dionisio Garcia - drums

mixed and mastered by Sergey Lubinsky



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The Nietzsche Odessa, Ukraine

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Track Name: Mayakovsky II
Пришла -
за рыком,
за ростом,
разглядела просто мальчика.
отобрала сердце
и просто
пошла играть -
как девочка мячиком.
И каждая -
чудо будто видится -
где дама вкопалась,
а где девица.
"Такого любить?
Да этакий ринется!
Должно, укротительница.
Должно, из зверинца!"
А я ликую.
Нет его -
От радости себя не помня,
индейцем свадебным прыгал,
так было весело,
было легко мне.
Track Name: W. Whitman
When I heard the learn’d astronomer;
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me;
When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them;
When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick;
Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.
Track Name: Lord Byron
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
Track Name: Edgar Allan Poet
I saw thee on thy bridal day-
When a burning blush came o'er thee,
Though happiness around thee lay,
The world all love before thee:
And in thine eye a kindling light
(Whatever it might be)
Was all on Earth my aching sight
Of Loveliness could see.
That blush, perhaps, was maiden shame-
As such it well may pass-
Though its glow hath raised a fiercer flame
In the breast of him, alas!
Who saw thee on that bridal day,
When that deep blush would come o'er thee,
Though happiness around thee lay;
The world all love before thee.
Track Name: Oscar Wild
The Gods are dead: no longer do we bring
To grey-eyed Pallas crowns of olive-leaves!
Demeter's child no more hath tithe of sheaves,
And in the noon the careless shepherds sing,
For Pan is dead, and all the wantoning
By secret glade and devious haunt is o'er:
Young Hylas seeks the water-springs no more;
Great Pan is dead, and Mary's son is King.

And yet - perchance in this sea-tranced isle,
Chewing the bitter fruit of memory,
Some God lies hidden in the asphodel.
Ah Love! if such there be, then it were well
For us to fly his anger: nay, but see,
The leaves are stirring: let us watch awhile.