Norwegian Progressive Metal?

Nothing can quite prepare you for it.

It begins quietly. Self-reflectingly, almost. Littered with an indiscriminate yet distinctly BHN beeping dot-and-dash Morse Code (does anyone else remember the "bugger all" morse code from "D'You Know What I Mean"?) There's a sweet sounding doubling-up of the guitar. And then it goes.

"An extraordinary guy can never have an ordinary day. He might live a long goodbye, but that is not for me to say.

They are sleeping while they dream, but then they want to be adored. Those who don't say what they mean, will live and die by their own sword.

There are but a thousand days but heading for a thousand years. Many minds to educate, the people who have disappeared."

I mean, he's got no right to write like that.

As Rio Ferdinand said after returning from his drugs ban a few years ago, "It's like beer for most people. What happens when you've been taken off beer for eight months? When you finally get a hold of it, that beer is going to taste good."

It isn't often that the crackling sound of an arrogant, vindicated anthem moves me to write anything at all, let alone something here. It's 3 a.m., the morning of project submission. And though it may not be apparent, there's a lot that's right with the world at this time.

The swagger is back. Insurance can go do itself.

Magic Pie, indeed.

You. You know who you are. I owe you one. Big time.