Slipping a small run of CD-Rs through the cracks as we find the appropriate time to indulge in words and abstract meaning, taking the time to partner up with a long-running favourite, now fully two-headed and packed with bonus dada data, at the intersection of words-losing-meaning and sounds-becoming-something-else, we go headlamp first into the scenic wilds and foliage-like discordant fray.
The royal we is really just two, myself and Joe Murray, who records as Posset, and we have a split album for your listening pleasure.
Where his side embraces the free moaning blues hum and sustain of voice-as-instrument, claustrophic and multiplying, his wordplay relevant and illuminated rightly to hear the words enunciated to lessen their blow, my side journeys through a voice-in-the-woods atmosphere that eventually hits an elevating shore and field of grazing goats, if I were to put an image to it.
The words lose traction throughout despite our combining efforts at storytelling, forms triangulating to shake free, slipping through the speakers and microphone holds, gathering loose like under the barber’s broom, to be recycled yet again once found.
Placement, and editing: where we both end up isn’t where we tend to start from, layers of sonic nothingness, be it everyday rituals or outside playing-around, in coordinated stabs at concept, ideas taped and typed over to start again, misused slices of life that alternate the reality we’re after – sculpting with nihilist tools our being left alone can backfire, our willingness to try it all out forever carries it under the recording lights. Everything’s a moment to record when those perfect playback results don’t necessarily matter. Pitch and direction and cover-up then, piling on, magnetic timeframes collecting disparate dust like a series of stones getting re-wet, continuous splashes, touching and moving past the same spots, lengths of time the dust that moves from one segment to the next in recorded-over legacy, what remains remains, winner take all then. This is the sound of the water right before it hits rock, if I were to put an image to it.
CD-Rs were burned in a small run of 20 copies, and each home-prepared package includes the disc itself, two black-and-white photo prints by myself and three text art pieces by Joe, and a small zine ‘Dry Air in Voice’ that I collaborated on with my good friend Ryan Waldron. I wrote a longer poem and he illustrated it, randomized it, turned it into a chance collage, and put it all together. The 20 envelopes include all of this, each part only available as part of this total package, and I think priced fairly cheaply. I hope you are interested in grabbing one. Digital files are free, available to stream and download at Bandcamp and on Free Music Archive.
From the both of us, we hope you dig it and can pass it on.
Bonus, if interested in future new release info and general riff raff blather, please sign up to the Power Moves Library / Excavation Series Tinyletter I’ve just fired up.