The first rays ask nothing
When the gentle were dead these inherited their coats
Now they gather in late autumn and quarrel over the air
Demanding something for their shadows that are naked
And silent and learning
Our souls turn upon the soft spiral of a deeper shade of light
Dreaming of an answer embedded in a question
Shine yourself softly until the conclusion
Wildflowers out of gas
Stars scribble on our eyes the frosty sagas,
The gleaming cantos of un-vanquished space
I steal fistfuls of saltwater and palm them upward against a jewel-blue sky,
Relinquishing them like doves just to watch them fall back to me like so many stars
The honey-feast of the berries has stunned them;
They believe in heaven
Etch your predictions into my flesh
This time the story will repeat in a different way
I came here for a reason
Perhaps there is a life here
Of not being afraid of your own heart beating
Do not be afraid of your own heart beating
Look at very small things with your eyes
& stay warm
Nothing outside can cure you but everything’s outside
In a dream you saw a way to survive and you were full of joy
Decomposing into something lighter
Strange prophecies in pomegranate ink
To tremble like I had torn out the stitches in my jaw
It is cold in the woods today, and the creek and sway of these old vines touched by this wind, like weeping
And the same photos of the same moss and the same hawthorn and bramble vines and a hole never filled in search of beauty
And November's dried remains speak without purpose, and ground becomes illusion where trees once stood, holes beneath the leaves
Up over the next ridge, then another, and another
I pull myself up to mount each horse to tumble down the other side
The road would have been easier, but that's no place to bleed this light
There is no getting lost; I know where the river lies
And runnels and rivulets that spill from nowhere to collapse the earth
And the still pools they leave where life collects itself
And the ever shifting stream with the vast memory of the universe coursing through it
And I can neither cauterize nor bleed out this light
Systems fail and time conspires
with memory against us, but still
she moves into the wind
as God's dark binary
pulls supersymmetry apart
about
Grand Rapids drone project, Dead Hawk, collaborate with George Bell to conjure a 20 minute dystopian descent into an electroacoustic wasteland. C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate while haunting piano guts are pattered in a distant void. The flip side features San Diego’s Those Darn Gnomes, a traveling collective of avant-hellscapers whose revolving door of cohorts only lends to their mystery and frenzy. Their piece is part harrowing prophecy of a post-apocalyptic nightmare, and part vulnerable squall enshrouded by clonking canisters and promulgated bellows from rusted horns. This is a document of what oozes between the cracks.
credits
released November 29, 2020
Those Darn Gnomes are:
Christian Molenaar – guitar, saxophone, voice
Noah Souza – saxophone
Jonathan Piper – tuba
Russell Case – bass
Nathan Hubbard – drums
Additional vocals by Lucas Broyles.
Recorded live at Kava Lounge 1/8/19 by Noah Souza. Mixed and mastered by Christian Molenaar at Apollo’s Crotch.
The indescribable Fawn Limbs return with another LP that slams together grindcore, math rock & experimental music to jaw-dropping effect. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 22, 2021