The idea for Magical Thinking came about around 2010. I remember playing the opening riff along with bits and pieces of the lyrics in a hotel we stayed at in January 2011 and I can clearly recall I have been trying that out for longer, and certainly a good while before that time.

Lyrically, the idea revolves around (Meta)magical thinking and schizotypalism and you might care to know what actually sparked writing that.

It was a strange exciting time when the band started playing abroad gathering a good amount of attention, so naturally acquaintances wanted to be better acquainted with us as it usually is the case. At the same time, our brand and image had a sophisticated, dark, mysterious tinge (thank Jimmy Page, and his fascination with the occult for that), all served with a bit of craic. Both premises are hopefully going to offer some helpful insight in understanding the story that follows:

One day, when I lived back in Larisa, Greece, a couple we had become close with, who coincidentally had gotten into reiki for some time, proposed they picked me up to go for a coffee and got visibly disappointed when Alex who was playing guitars and keyboards at the time, also came out of my parents’ house behind me as he was visiting for either gigs or recordings as he had already moved to his hometown by that point. I instantly picked that up and apologised for not giving them the heads up, having assumed that it was okay, as meeting up in the presence of random friends tagging along was the standard practice amongst the group they met us through up to that point.

The moment we sat in the backseat of their car, the wife turned around from the passenger’s side and stated that she had a dream where she had given me her husband’s ring, and went on to explain that this meant that they would give me a gift but it was up to me to decide what I would do with that.

As we drove along to reach our destination, what would turn out to be a cafe at the base of Mt. Olympus (ostensibly to create the necessary awesome set and setting) a drive just shy of 60 miles; we made a stop so a second car would follow us. In that other car, there was a bloke I think in his late fifties/early sixties accompanied by an older-than-him lady.

I was offered to sit close to these 2 people (conveniently cooped in a corner between them) whilst Alex was kept busy by the couple a bit further away from us. After discussing random stuff including how that elder lady, who identified as an art expert, envisioned our debut album’s cover in orange rather than a green tinge, and how she had a realisation/meltdown in the past where she was asking herself in the mirror who she was; that bloke exclaimed how he enjoyed the fact that the T-Shirt Alex was wearing (The Doors – LA Woman) featured Jim Morrison being in his decline, looking older (albeit only 27 y/o), bigger, and unkempt, instead of good looking and iconic like in the ‘young lion’ photo session, and went on to say how he used to break on through (pun intended I guess) when getting into trance states on stage and ‘receiving records’ (Akashic apparently).

I can’t quite recall how the conversation unfolded, to accurately recount it in full, but I remember mentioning Friedrich Nietzsche for one reason or another, possibly wanting to appear smart, relating him to something to do with the Apollonian and Dionysian juxtaposition on the Birth of Tragedy of his and the former’s direct inferences from that idea, commenting anything along these lines; and that was the exact point where it kicked off! The man went on a paroxysm of rage and shouted how ‘we people’ don’t understand and how he is the only one who has successfully ‘decoded’ Nietzsche. He would also reveal later that he’d written books but only when he was 19 y/o to then stop altogether as he had ‘said everything’ he had to say already, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it transpired he was confusing himself with Rimbaud (who ‘packed it in’ at 20 y/o himself) at that point.

To note that the reason behind the seemingly heavy name-dropping on these blogs is not to signal how well-read I might think I am, but to give credit where that is due, and to distinguish between independent original ideas with ideas/sayings of others, including those of friends, as I find people who arrogate/appropriate other people’s ideas (consciously or otherwise) inherently scary.

I still found it very hard to understand what the purpose of that meeting was (that clearly had an agenda), even by that time and as the afternoon had further progressed. After that fellow’s ‘comedown’ following him throwing a full-on tantrum, or proverbially – his toys off the pram, the man started telling me after my further probing, that he was the president of the European bank and that his sigil featured the eagle because of how much he values freedom, amongst other things, as well as that, in a textbook folie a deux manner, he had convinced that older lady that he was actually her internal monologue (!); and also, that he went to Istanbul with a group in a holiday tour bus (matching modest means of transport, for a very humble EU bank’s president) and asked for the driver to wait for him whilst he nipped to the Ecumenical Patriarch’s quarters where he insistently knocked on the door for the Head of the Orthodox church to let him in and show him an embroidered message reading ‘O Ftohoulis tou Theou‘ (The original title of N. Kazantzakis‘ book God’s Puper/St Francis about the protagonist’s life who formed a religious order – very matching again) signed with his parents’ names.

Whilst this utter madness* was unfolding the couple were discreetly looking at me at times, resignedly yet in an approving manner, as if I was their son who was undergoing some sort of strange rite of passage; while at the same time, they were keeping Alex entertained, a bit further away (at one point I overheard Alex explaining how Transcendence‘s solo section give’s off the impression that the harmony has shifted when stripped down to the bassline).

When they dropped us off they asked how I felt and whether I was helped, something that made matters worse as up to that point I was merely trying to gauge whether they were just being nice, helping out a fellow who clearly struggled with his mental health to socialise, or if they were ‘in on it’. I then turned to Alex in hopes he would anchor me to reality, but he explained that he hadn’t heard any of that, to the point I was convinced none of that had ever taken place (due to their surreal nature), and that it was a case of a bad trip without drugs (commonly known as psychotic episodes). At that stage, thinking I had a screw loosened seemed more probable to have happened, rather than the reality of what actually had transpired.

That same night I explained what had happened to someone close and dear to me, who reassured me stating how I was the most reasonable person they knew and encouraged me to trust my judgment; and who then however went on to show me a blog that looked like my grandmother had set up, supposedly written and maintained by the Olympian god Apollo; something that served as the cherry on top, and provided the dramatic irony the end of the night was calling for.

The next day I found out from a third party that the ‘family’ holds that ‘Shaman’ fellow (who had also passed on his reiki knowledge to them) in high regard, that he uses drugs to bond with them and control them (the oldest trick in the cult book), and that they renovated his house at their own expense (I’m guessing his capital was tied in investments). As he had made sure to tell me where that house was, bragging about the eagle on the door in his delirium, and had also already told me what his last name was during the Istanbul story, I found out from a friend who lived in that neighborhood that he was actually a retired taxi driver (again, maybe he was moonlighting as a taxi driver to escape from his boring EU bank commitments).

I was shocked by how educated people and educators (including nursery teachers) were part of this ‘family’, even though I know that at least one of them had the full Jesus treatment. That is being sent by her parents to an after-school club where fellow devout Christians send their children to be educated with the core values, and truths of the Christian Orthodox Church, inspiring copious amounts of guilt and shame with an abundance of mixed signaling and restriction orders. Think of it as the equivalent of going to a strict Catholic boarding school.

I was deeply struck by the human yearning for spirituality in a theocratic society that remains, even in the 21st century, heavily shaped by religious traditions and sensitivities around shame. The country’s constitution still contains references to a divine being and spiritual ideals, while also indirectly marginalises the alternatives people may seek when they choose to step outside conventional beliefs in dealing with their existential dread.

In many cases, individuals appear to turn away from traditional religious narratives, only to be drawn towards the first charismatic figure who offers a sense of certainty or authority- sometimes without critical evaluation. This can resemble leaving a long-term toxic relationship only to commit impulsively to someone new, simply because they show attention, even if their intentions might be questionable.Often, little effort is made to question these new influences. No research, no reflection, no intuitive check-in; just a leap towards what may clearly be warning signs.

Unfortunately, spiritual abuse can be prevalent in some alternative or quasi-esoteric groups, where individuals with manipulative tendencies may exploit others seeking meaning or healing.

This pattern is closely tied to the phenomenon of magical thinking: a reliance on loose associations and charismatic individuals who present themselves as spiritual leaders, often diverting attention from constructive personal development or appropriate therapeutic support.

Magical Thinking is exactly about that. It’s about mentalists* who engage in making loose associations and have people worshipping them as spiritual leaders, instead of seeking positive change through appropriate treatment.

I never discovered whether these certain individuals I encountered wanted to initiate me into their beliefs, were seeking company for drug use, inviting me into hedonistic gatherings, or even hoping I would take on a spiritual leadership role myself. I didn’t confront them, something I now regret, especially considering those they may have influenced in potentially harmful ways. Instead, I chose to distance myself and eventually moved to the UK to join our then-prospective manager. If our paths cross again, I suspect a conversation will be necessary, especially as they hey recognise themselves if they read this account.

In any case, the track made it on the record that was finished a few years after and has a matching dark, unsettled (and unsettling), confrontational tone. It is also getting new mix, mastering, and distribution soon, but I’m getting ahead of myself… I’ll say no more.

Love,

Thanos

*PS Disclaimer: although some use of language here could be interpreted as coming from a place of mental health, or religious bias; this is not the case at all. We are great proponents of Live and Let Believe, and do not assume an exclusivist stance when it comes to matters of faith or people’s ways of dealing with existential dread. Additionally, mental health and psychological well-being matters are very close to home, with members having various struggles throughout the years. We do not in any shape or form perpetuate the stigma mental health issues bear, and specifically, this article touches upon how people who are at least Section 2 material, can potentially be dangerous for others, especially those who due to their prior conditioning/experience can be vulnerable or impressionable.

[Verse 1]
I am so bold, I let myself unfold
I keep I hold, the greatest lie untold
Don’t cross my path, be careful of my wrath
Because I’m dreadful and I’m torn
You’d wish you weren’t born

[Hook]
Can’t feel what’s real, I’m falling down – I’m standing still

[Verse 2]
I am a god, not worshipped thus I’m sad
I am feeling bad; role model for the mad
Don’t treat me well cause I’ll prepare your living hell
Because I’m dreadful thoughts I’ll haul
Through the entrance to your soul

[Outro]
Distorted, disordered