SEVDALIZA - ISON (FULL ALBUM)

"in this life, you are the knife, with which i explore myself"

sevdaliza's debut album ISON is available now

visual experience directed by hirad sab

tracklist:
00:00 Shahmaran
05:12 Libertine
09:01 Marilyn Monroe
12:30 Hubris
16:36 Amandine Insensible
20:50 Hero
24:49 Scarlette
28:15 Bluecid
32:44 Loves Way
39:39 Human
42:51 Do You Feel Real
45:21 The Language of Limbo
49:08 Replaceable
53:03 Grace
57:00 When I Reside
59:19 Bonus: Angel

[Sevdaliza]

Thank You For All Your Support.

[jeancartoon]

this isn´t an album... this is a fully loaded experience

[vegrjds]

that's the kind of music that deserves to be paid for

[ziyedhamrouni]

After all the work she has been through.. she shared it all for free.. Come on fans ... buy it !

[jafs]

I don't normally buy physical copies, but since your music is so good and you posted the ENTIRE album in youtube for us to equally experience it, I'm buying it and some for my friends.

[valentina]

SEVDALIZA is underrated af. But then again, mainstream music can't handle her authenticity and abstractness regarding her art and music.

[HarvestingThings]

Did anyone else literally cry when they heard this album for the first time? An unbelievably haunting, ethereal aural experience. It completely moved me.

[XxQueenChristinaxX]

Sevdaliza is real for posting the entire album.

[puchaina]

"It shouldn't hurt this much to be an angel"....

well damn.

[CHEFWAFFLES]

Please like so everyone can have this as reference =). Cheers!
1) 00:01 Shahmaran
2) 05:11 Libertine
3) 08:59 Marilyn Monroe
4) 12:28 Hubris
5) 16:34 Amandine Insensible
6) 20:48 Heroes
7) 24:49 Scarlette
8) 28:12 Bluecid
9) 32:42 Loves Way
10) 39:37 Human
11) 42:51 Do You Feel Real
12) 45:20 The Language of Limbo
13) 49:07 Replaceable
14) 53:03 Grace
15) 56:59 When I Reside
16) 59:17 Angel

At first I was wondering where songs like Time, Bebin, and Men of Glass are... but those songs are amazing by themselves and ill still revisit them. Everything Sevdaliza makes is amazing. I have a Persian co worker and she really enjoys the power of Bebin, she's trying to teach me Farsi as I can speak Russian right now, and i'm finding so many similarities. Just thought to share!

[november]

This is the only album that I can listen to over and over and never get bored of. Sevdaliza is a real artist. She deserves more recognition.

[jessicasi]

I actually can't believe Sevdaliza shared the whole album with us. SHE'S AMAZING!

[bongimbuli]

She is a true artist, I can not believe she shared the entire album.Such beautiful work, graphics are amazing and her music is too organic.Loved the album so much I bought it .She has a big fan in South Africa now.

[SerenaPersia]

So stunned. Months of anticipation, not knowing when a song will be out. Then one day the whole album is just sitting there for us, quietly... Easy like a dream. And its beautiful.

[GallivanterEdits]

This album is probably my favorite album of the decade. The production is EVERYTHING. The lyrics are so minimalist yet all you need to hear. I really love her voice and style. I've seen her live once and it was a beautiful experience. I really hope she keeps being great and more people recognize her talent!

[hurrrmmhmmmhmghh]

Thank you Sev, not many other artists would post their whole album for free. It means a lot to those of us who can't afford it or who are unable to purchase in a small country. <3

[breadpilled]

this album had helped me so much with my depression lately. I listen to it while I lay in bed trying to relax and clear my head. thank you so much. this music means so much to me.

[rafaelcollao]

Please if possible buy the album too to support her .

[moshyura]

The first day in the land of apples was a bitter-cold one; for the snow still covered the
ground, and the trees were bare. A large bell rang for breakfast, its loud metallic voice
crashing through the belfry overhead and into our sensitive ears. The annoying clatter of
shoes on bare floors gave us no peace. The constant clash of harsh noises, with an
undercurrent of many voices murmuring an unknown tongue, made a bedlam within
which I was securely tied. And though my spirit tore itself in struggling for its lost
freedom, all was useless.
A paleface woman, with white hair, came up after us. We were placed in a line of girls
who were marching into the dining room. These were Indian girls, in stiff shoes and
closely clinging dresses. The small girls wore sleeved aprons and shingled hair. As I
walked noiselessly in my soft moccasins, I felt like sinking to the floor, for my blanket
had been stripped from my shoulders. I looked hard at the Indian girls, who seemed not
to care that they were even more immodestly dressed than I, in their tightly fitting
clothes. While we marched in, the boys entered at an opposite door. I watched for the
three young braves who came in our party. I spied them in the rear ranks, looking as
uncomfortable as I felt.
A small bell was tapped, and each of the pupils drew a chair from under the table.
Supposing this act meant they were to be seated, I pulled out mine and at once slipped
into it from one side. But when I turned my head, I saw that I was the only one seated,
and all the rest at our table remained standing. Just as I began to rise, looking shyly
around to see how chairs were to be used, a second bell was sounded. All were seated at
last, and I had to crawl back into my chair again. I heard a man's voice at one end of the
hall, and I looked around to see him. But all the others hung their heads over their
plates. As I glanced at the long chain of tables, I caught the eyes of a paleface woman
upon me. Immediately I dropped my eyes, wondering why I was so keenly watched by
the strange woman. The man ceased his mutterings, and then a third bell was tapped.
Every one picked up his knife and fork and began eating. I began crying instead, for by
this time I was afraid to venture anything more.
But this eating by formula was not the hardest trial in that first day. Late in the morning,
my friend Judéwin gave me a terrible warning. Judéwin knew a few words of English,
and she had overheard the paleface woman talk about cutting our long, heavy hair. Our
mothers had taught us that only unskilled warriors who were captured had their hair
shingled by the enemy. Among our people, short hair was worn by mourners, and
shingled hair by cowards!
We discussed our fate some moments, and when Judéwin said, "We have to submit,
because they are strong, " I rebelled.
"No, I will not submit! I will struggle first!" I answered.
I watched my chance, and when no one noticed I disappeared. I crept up the stairs as
quietly as I could in my squeaking shoes, – my moccasins had been exchanged for shoes.
Along the hall I passed, without knowing whither I was going. Turning aside to an open
door, I found a large room with three white beds in it. The windows were covered with
dark green curtains, which made the room very dim. Thankful that no one was there, I
directed my steps toward the corner farthest from the door. On my hands and knees I
crawled under the bed, and cuddled myself in the dark corner.
From my hiding place I peered out, shuddering with fear whenever I heard footsteps
near by. Though in the hall loud voices were calling my name, and I knew that even
Judéwin was searching for me, I did not open my mouth to answer. Then the steps were
quickened and the voices became excited. The sounds came nearer and nearer. Women
and girls entered the room. I held my breath, and watched them open closet doors and
peep behind large trunks. Some one threw up the curtains, and the room was filled with
sudden light. What caused them to stoop and look under the bed I do not know. I
remember being dragged out, though I resisted by kicking and scratching wildly. In spite
of myself, I was carried downstairs and tied fast in a chair.
I cried aloud, shaking my head all the while until I felt the cold blades of the scissors
against my neck, and heard them gnaw off one of my thick braids. Then I lost my spirit.
Since the day I was taken from my mother I had suffered extreme indignities. People
had stared at me. I had been tossed about in the air like a wooden puppet. And now my
long hair was shingled like a coward's! In my anguish I moaned for my mother, but no
one came to comfort me. Not a soul reasoned quietly with me, as my own mother used
to do; for now I was only one of many little animals driven by a herder.


The Cutting of My Long Hair, Zitkala-Sa

[MoralaGrymuar]

she literally watered my crops and cured my acne