Autonomy dwindles in the face of despotic power. We compulsively rub our eyes that have run dry, staring into bright ultraviolet screens.

Between every conflict lies a pseudo-solution, wrapped in butter paper and laid out for the masses to feast on. An unstable platform that could crack through at any moment. And the first ones to go down with it are the ones that are present at the feast.

‘Give them bread and circuses and they will never revolt.’

Powers Of The Monk pack a whole lot of angst into their experimental track, Bread & Circuses.
The beeping ventilator, the ominous sounds of people pacing up and down a hospital. Suddenly, we find ourselves out on the road. Cars whizzing through. We’ve made it out alive. Though, a wispy voice creeps up on one shoulder. The racing sound of a ticking clock eases itself into the sound of the bass pedal crashing into the drums.
Powers Of The Monk design the track with sounds that really pack a paranoia in the listener’s ears.

We’re back with the narrator. There’s a circus that’s come to town. In this circus, you find lions on the ground. A fire breaks out and the lion sprouts and eats the head of the clown.

This is a striking visual that takes its spirit of resistance from the famous bread and circuses quote mentioned above.

This is a song about the masses that obey, play a part in the circus, only to be betrayed by the administration of the rich. The bureaucracies and world leaders that hide their malice under the garb of a colourful orchestration, making you numb to any pain.

Bread & Circuses is a theatrical rock piece that opens up the mental fragmentations of a disillusioned narrator and leaves it bare for the audience to pick up. CasSondra “Pontiac” Powers’s violin carries a kind of ghostly weight, her mournful sweeps shaping the track with both emotion and unease.