In Ti Jean moments of far flung
Water-crash sound a literature
Blizzard of seeing live poem
Sit as open crest breathes
Shared wail shoring boats
In wobbled cursive unbalance
Waves tumble and call out
Reverberate and mimic previous cycle
Mist erases structure then-beautiful
Now in locked re-occurence swift
Cloud cover reaching for the low hang
Of crisp white tops in spiral
Teetering jungle-strength heavier
Only to oblivion’s wearing retreat
Holed wood splintering
Flood pile-up in
Transparent fleet still dry
For liquid hallucination
Rock forming moan-sing
Magic modernized as unblind
Scraped pre-painting in
Raft wind dock plans
Lost arch beginnings to see
Temple total relic shaping
Original layers bell
Cliff bound when overdosed
In soaring exclamation
Tidal to tonal
For hallucinating liquid
Got a monster for you, some right gnarled sounds from the hands and minds of Patrick Cain and Phong Tran. Improvised and fully felt, complete immersion for the togethered flame, the fire sparkling light on dangerous terrain, this is an all-out ripper.
The burning is needed for warmth and deconstruction. Water too, ocean or river or sea – an array of punishing pools, whiplash, undercurrents, being thrown about, gracefully and glacially intact and howling sun-and-moon for day-long.
The ancestral water mysteries turn proud. Paddling shore’s unfamiliar voyage, lost lands covered in archaic art-leafage. Mission of elastic grip-hold, tensions minimized through collective gift-offer. A mirage turns magic real, an opened page from the book of peoples.
Lineal every-sound following and zoning in on the source.
Voices shaped through the sea’s vast horn.
Moans and wails and screaming free association. Rocking boats traipsing through choppy waters. Explorers, kind to the land. Receivers, using the land.
A duo in friend thorn lock, on soft carpet, in a prayer reach, extended beyond the individual.
“Just playing music.”
Sink or swim.
Tapes coming soon, limited to 50 copies.
Hope you dig it!
Thanks for reading + listening!