(I'm the machinist)
The dark surly boatman of the coal age
No raft, or river styx
I ferry souls through untold pain
No toll to pay
No staving off the cold gaze
No oars in my palms
This occupation is my soul's cage
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Back On The Grind
I had my iTunes on random the other day and this ambient track comes on. Sounds good. Sounds familiar. What is this track?
After about ten seconds I realise it's the first track off the album I was working on earlier this year.
I will finish this shit. One way or another it will happen.
After about ten seconds I realise it's the first track off the album I was working on earlier this year.
I will finish this shit. One way or another it will happen.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Precipice (Draft)
Last track off the EP...
One minute you’re sitting there at the dining room table
Looking across at her
And then the next thing you know
You’re listening to her coughing into the toilet bowl from the next room
You hear her cough and shudder
Whimpering
The sound of her lunch slapping against the porcelain
And you’re not wondering what to do
Whether you should help her
Get her a glass of water or hold back her hair
You’re imagining taking her in your arms and beginning frankly
Explaining to her that every moment up until now has been misspent
And how every choice she made, every fucked up corner and drug binge
Was nothing more than a cry for help
And you’re listening
Oh, you’re listening
But now real life begins
And it’s going to involve you guiding her gently
Taking her by the hand
Helping her tip toe across the creek
Tiny feet on tiny stones
Showing her the way
Emptying the house of everything she’s crammed inside
Draining the fluid
And kissing better her wounds
And then you’re thinking back to when you first met
And thinking she should have cuts up and down her arms
Long jagged wounds
Scratches
From when she forced her hands through the glass
How else could she let people know
What other way was there
But her skin is smooth and rich
And you just can’t understand it
You imagine pulling her hair
And slamming her against the wall
Screaming at her
Letting your fists do the talking
(And you know this isn’t going to work)
And you’re thinking about her face
And the way her lips curl around words
The snarl
Savage and ruthless like a dog pulled tight on its chain
The spittle dripping off the tongue
The raw hunger for violence and destruction
And you know that if you go there
If you step inside that hole
You won’t be coming out
You’re going to leave something in there
Something important
And that thing will be lost and you’ll never get it back
If you can even climb out at all
And you hear her coughing and the flush of the toilet
You hear her bare feet padding along the floorboards towards you
You know that she’s coming
You know a lot
So what do you do?
One minute you’re sitting there at the dining room table
Looking across at her
And then the next thing you know
You’re listening to her coughing into the toilet bowl from the next room
You hear her cough and shudder
Whimpering
The sound of her lunch slapping against the porcelain
And you’re not wondering what to do
Whether you should help her
Get her a glass of water or hold back her hair
You’re imagining taking her in your arms and beginning frankly
Explaining to her that every moment up until now has been misspent
And how every choice she made, every fucked up corner and drug binge
Was nothing more than a cry for help
And you’re listening
Oh, you’re listening
But now real life begins
And it’s going to involve you guiding her gently
Taking her by the hand
Helping her tip toe across the creek
Tiny feet on tiny stones
Showing her the way
Emptying the house of everything she’s crammed inside
Draining the fluid
And kissing better her wounds
And then you’re thinking back to when you first met
And thinking she should have cuts up and down her arms
Long jagged wounds
Scratches
From when she forced her hands through the glass
How else could she let people know
What other way was there
But her skin is smooth and rich
And you just can’t understand it
You imagine pulling her hair
And slamming her against the wall
Screaming at her
Letting your fists do the talking
(And you know this isn’t going to work)
And you’re thinking about her face
And the way her lips curl around words
The snarl
Savage and ruthless like a dog pulled tight on its chain
The spittle dripping off the tongue
The raw hunger for violence and destruction
And you know that if you go there
If you step inside that hole
You won’t be coming out
You’re going to leave something in there
Something important
And that thing will be lost and you’ll never get it back
If you can even climb out at all
And you hear her coughing and the flush of the toilet
You hear her bare feet padding along the floorboards towards you
You know that she’s coming
You know a lot
So what do you do?
Introduction ('05-'09)
I've got rough demos of six tracks for my EP. I was planning on making this track the final one, but finally decided to scrap it.
I started this track back in like 2006, without any concrete plan. I think at first it was going to be a collection of quotables, just stuff I had scribbled down and stuck to my wall and shit like that. Started working on it again late last year, sort of reapproaching it as a way of showing where I've been since 2006 when I quit. The idea I had was to make the first verse about how I got started, back when I was called "EOC" and then "Axis" and played with King Armadillo. Then maybe second verse when I caught the glandular. And the final verse as like a re-introduction to the here and now.
I busted my gut for a couple of days but wasn't happy with the results. From the start I didn't know if I was a good idea to include this track with my new work. With all my new stuff, I sort of have a rule when everything has to be a story and I'm not just saying shit to be saying it. I'm not really interested in just talking, and speaking as myself directly anymore. I want each track to be a complete thing with no unecessary shit. I want it to be subtle and not too blatant.
This track isn't like that. It was very blatant. Just me saying shit plainly. And the problem was I couldn't tell if it was any good or just over sentimental.
I listened over to a ton of other tracks I was trying to replicate with this, like "All Things to All Men" by the Cinematic Orchestra, "Cellepram" by Horrorshow, a bunch of tracks talking frankly about depression etc really frankly. I still love those tracks. But I didn't know if I could pull it off.
Finally, I decided to scrap it. I was reworking a dead horse. There's a few lines in here I like, but honestly my heart wasn't in it. All I'm really interested in working in is tracks for my new album. I actually WANT to sit down and write those stories, so why am I busting my balls doing this shit?
So, fuck it, the track will remain unheard. I figured I'd post what I'd got so far since it'll never be recorded. It's a mess, very rough, but hopefully you'll see what I was playing around with.
Chorus:
Fought for theory
Learnt some lessons
Sought for answers
But ended up with questions
I once thought
These days were without blessing
But I was wrong
(Cause life is just an introduction)
Fought for theory
Learnt some lessons
Sought for answers
But ended up with questions
I once thought
These days were without blessing
But I was wrong
(Cause life is just an introduction)
Verse Two:
And so let me introduce myself
_
Feel free to call me Chris
Like peace, nice to meet ya
(But) Experience tells
The greeting’s not as civil
When you’re surrounded by six men
And bleeding on the pavement
I picked up a pen
And aimed for containment
But the words stayed inside
And I just wrote out the same shit
Lame shit
Wack proclamations of a deranged kid
Got the shit in my brain on lock
But couldn’t frame it
Now the fact remains
On the day I was robbed
The only cost
Was in lost serotonin
Verse Three:
And so let me introduce myself
_
A man who took three years
To write like three fucking verses
I lost a dope flow
Stopped rocking clothes with logos
Some call me gaijin
They used to call me gweilo
But I stayed on my grind
Mind curling with obsession
(I) felt all the symptoms
But missed the fucking message
A bruised mind stressing
Accused of half stepping
But that don’t mean shit
When I’m half man and half depression
(In my) Younger days
(I) Confused denial with composure
Told myself that if life hurts
Then it’s supposed to
Just a lonely ghost
Stuck waiting for the closer
Too hopeless
To plunge the knife into the toaster
(So) when I breathe my last breath
And the cancer finally takes me
I’ll say: “fuck life”
And finally break free
Until then
I be harbouring regret
So before the illness comes
I’ll shout: “fuck death”
I had a longer version of that second verse, but I guess I didn't save it.
I also played around with this order, I dunno what's good...
And so let me introduce myself
_
Feel free to call me Chris
Like peace, nice to meet ya
Experience tells
The greeting’s not as kind
When you’re surrounded by six men
And bleeding on the pavement
I picked up a pen
And aimed for containment
Couldn’t say I meant
So I just wrote out the same shit
Lame shit
Wack proclamations of a deranged kid
Thought I knew it all
But I barely knew a fucking thing
See younger days
Confused denial with composure
Told myself that if life hurts
Then it’s supposed to
Just a lonely ghost
Stuck waiting for the closer
Too hopeless
To plunge the knife into the toaster
So I stayed on my grind
Mind curling with obsession
(I) felt all the symptoms
But missed the fucking message
A bruised mind stressing
Accused of half stepping
But I’ll go one better yo
I’m half man and half depression
And so let me introduce myself
_
But yo what’s in a name
It doesn’t matter anyway
Some things change
But the rest stays the same
Wondering why am I sick
To my stomach each day
I lost my dope flow
Stopped rocking clothes with logos
Now some call me gaijin
They used to call me gweilo
And I don’t believe
In heaven or hell _
But if you heed the creed
May it serve you well
(So) when I breathe my last breath
And the cancer finally takes me
I’ll say: “fuck life”
And finally break free
Until then
I be harbouring regret
So before the illness comes
I’ll shout: “fuck death”
I started this track back in like 2006, without any concrete plan. I think at first it was going to be a collection of quotables, just stuff I had scribbled down and stuck to my wall and shit like that. Started working on it again late last year, sort of reapproaching it as a way of showing where I've been since 2006 when I quit. The idea I had was to make the first verse about how I got started, back when I was called "EOC" and then "Axis" and played with King Armadillo. Then maybe second verse when I caught the glandular. And the final verse as like a re-introduction to the here and now.
I busted my gut for a couple of days but wasn't happy with the results. From the start I didn't know if I was a good idea to include this track with my new work. With all my new stuff, I sort of have a rule when everything has to be a story and I'm not just saying shit to be saying it. I'm not really interested in just talking, and speaking as myself directly anymore. I want each track to be a complete thing with no unecessary shit. I want it to be subtle and not too blatant.
This track isn't like that. It was very blatant. Just me saying shit plainly. And the problem was I couldn't tell if it was any good or just over sentimental.
I listened over to a ton of other tracks I was trying to replicate with this, like "All Things to All Men" by the Cinematic Orchestra, "Cellepram" by Horrorshow, a bunch of tracks talking frankly about depression etc really frankly. I still love those tracks. But I didn't know if I could pull it off.
Finally, I decided to scrap it. I was reworking a dead horse. There's a few lines in here I like, but honestly my heart wasn't in it. All I'm really interested in working in is tracks for my new album. I actually WANT to sit down and write those stories, so why am I busting my balls doing this shit?
So, fuck it, the track will remain unheard. I figured I'd post what I'd got so far since it'll never be recorded. It's a mess, very rough, but hopefully you'll see what I was playing around with.
Chorus:
Fought for theory
Learnt some lessons
Sought for answers
But ended up with questions
I once thought
These days were without blessing
But I was wrong
(Cause life is just an introduction)
Fought for theory
Learnt some lessons
Sought for answers
But ended up with questions
I once thought
These days were without blessing
But I was wrong
(Cause life is just an introduction)
Verse Two:
And so let me introduce myself
_
Feel free to call me Chris
Like peace, nice to meet ya
(But) Experience tells
The greeting’s not as civil
When you’re surrounded by six men
And bleeding on the pavement
I picked up a pen
And aimed for containment
But the words stayed inside
And I just wrote out the same shit
Lame shit
Wack proclamations of a deranged kid
Got the shit in my brain on lock
But couldn’t frame it
Now the fact remains
On the day I was robbed
The only cost
Was in lost serotonin
Verse Three:
And so let me introduce myself
_
A man who took three years
To write like three fucking verses
I lost a dope flow
Stopped rocking clothes with logos
Some call me gaijin
They used to call me gweilo
But I stayed on my grind
Mind curling with obsession
(I) felt all the symptoms
But missed the fucking message
A bruised mind stressing
Accused of half stepping
But that don’t mean shit
When I’m half man and half depression
(In my) Younger days
(I) Confused denial with composure
Told myself that if life hurts
Then it’s supposed to
Just a lonely ghost
Stuck waiting for the closer
Too hopeless
To plunge the knife into the toaster
(So) when I breathe my last breath
And the cancer finally takes me
I’ll say: “fuck life”
And finally break free
Until then
I be harbouring regret
So before the illness comes
I’ll shout: “fuck death”
I had a longer version of that second verse, but I guess I didn't save it.
I also played around with this order, I dunno what's good...
And so let me introduce myself
_
Feel free to call me Chris
Like peace, nice to meet ya
Experience tells
The greeting’s not as kind
When you’re surrounded by six men
And bleeding on the pavement
I picked up a pen
And aimed for containment
Couldn’t say I meant
So I just wrote out the same shit
Lame shit
Wack proclamations of a deranged kid
Thought I knew it all
But I barely knew a fucking thing
See younger days
Confused denial with composure
Told myself that if life hurts
Then it’s supposed to
Just a lonely ghost
Stuck waiting for the closer
Too hopeless
To plunge the knife into the toaster
So I stayed on my grind
Mind curling with obsession
(I) felt all the symptoms
But missed the fucking message
A bruised mind stressing
Accused of half stepping
But I’ll go one better yo
I’m half man and half depression
And so let me introduce myself
_
But yo what’s in a name
It doesn’t matter anyway
Some things change
But the rest stays the same
Wondering why am I sick
To my stomach each day
I lost my dope flow
Stopped rocking clothes with logos
Now some call me gaijin
They used to call me gweilo
And I don’t believe
In heaven or hell _
But if you heed the creed
May it serve you well
(So) when I breathe my last breath
And the cancer finally takes me
I’ll say: “fuck life”
And finally break free
Until then
I be harbouring regret
So before the illness comes
I’ll shout: “fuck death”
Thursday, January 7, 2010
More Teeth
_ As they say (each dog has his day)
Let the ground rise to meet you
The teeth make their mark
But the fear’s going to eat you
Fangs tear through skin
Canines mash your windpipe
Jaws crush the bones
Then clamp down and cling tight
And shake the fucking life out ya
Barely conscious
Conquered by the night
Face pressed against the wet snow
You think the moment’s come
But it ain’t the end yet though
_ He’ll take it slow
You ain’t about to jet so
Hour after hour
And second after second
Teeth snap your ribcage
While death’s (thin) hand beckons
Let the ground rise to meet you
The teeth make their mark
But the fear’s going to eat you
Fangs tear through skin
Canines mash your windpipe
Jaws crush the bones
Then clamp down and cling tight
And shake the fucking life out ya
Barely conscious
Conquered by the night
Face pressed against the wet snow
You think the moment’s come
But it ain’t the end yet though
_ He’ll take it slow
You ain’t about to jet so
Hour after hour
And second after second
Teeth snap your ribcage
While death’s (thin) hand beckons
Gutter Fight (First Draft)
Trying something different with this one. Part of what I'm planning to be a whole series of tracks set in the wastelands.
+++
Approach the fight with my swagger on
Me, cheese, and O.C.
Like the three
Musketeers of this shit
Bout to get some OGs
Busting tears in this bitch
Like them old school flicks
We’ll get ‘em cooled real quick
Crying, down on they motherfucking knees
Gazing up at me
Tell me where the stash at
Or be ready to face my heat
Some cats just don’t understand
How this place can be
If machines are the worst you seen
(Then) You ain’t seen me
You see dumb crooks embrace this new age
Like they can taste freedom
(But) Meet me in the wastes and tempt fate
Then son, you ain’t leaving
(Whether) Thieving
Or just mouthing me off?
I don’t give a shit, I’ll waste ya real quick
And bust off two shots
(In this spot) On this rock
There’s nothing to stop a cat like me
There’s no shots from police
When blocks burn to debris
Just keep an eye for machines
(As) When you creep across the landscape
Fiends remain fiends
And that’s something that will never change
+++
(It’s like) Blood murder magic
Stuck in a place damned
Face the gutter fight
In the motherfucking wasteland
Cold grey metal
Flooding over great sands
Taste the blood of life
In the motherfucking wasteland
+++
Pass a couple blocks
Closing on the spot
_ Open streets promise death
We (keep) in the shadow of rocks
and debris, When we step to the scene
Play it sweet
Cheese gives the nod
And we stop to check our weaponry
I cock the hand canon
(And) Hold it by waist line
C loads his heater
And cheese checks his nine
Just across the way
Around the burnt frame of the
Tower from yesterday
Is where they holding their weight
I scope the two dudes
Grabbing on this chick, they got her titties out
One dude smacks her in the face
Cat looks pretty stout
He laughs
Opens up his mouth, lets something witty out
I take aim with my pistol
Other dude starts to shout
Let a bullet out
First cat goes down
Trick screams
The second cat shouting: shut the fuck up now
_ Reaching for his heat
He snatches it
But catches a blast from OC
And plants his arse in the street
He keeps hollering
Searching on the ground for his gun
OC raise his rifle
Where the package at son?
Yo we tragically blunt
_ Chick still screaming
From the sight of the gun
We bout to finish this cunt
C’s breath turns to blood
As a shell shreds his rib cage
Ending the kid’s days
Oh fuck we been played
Me and cheese spin around
Guns cocked to shoot
And clock two more dudes
Armed in big suits
+++
(It’s like) Blood murder magic
Stuck in a place damned
Face the gutter fight
In the motherfucking wasteland
Cold grey metal
Flooding over great sands
Taste the blood of life
In the motherfucking wasteland
+++
We facing two human tanks
Men wrapped in metal
With big guns that bang
Here to settle the score
_ Them big boys approach
Clearly ready for war
They shredding OC’s corpse
Before he spread on the floor
But yo cheese got em locked off
Pops a couple shots off
Bullets bounce right of they chests
We hit the dust
Time to back pedal
We catch a breath behind some rubble
Take a sec to reload
Prepare to hit the road on the double
No chance
Bros on a steady advance
Then we hear one shout:
Who rules the motherfucking wastelands?
They laughing
Trigger fingers blasting
Shells banging round the ruins
Straight got us pinned _
My man cheese flash a grin
And rips the pin from grenade_
He whispers: fuck you bitch
And throws the shit their way
Hear em dip in the spray
Of red hot smoke and shrapnel
Walk out in the cloak
Steady firing out some action
Chick still screaming
She be caught in the cross fire
Don’t know who she fears more
Them or us
Machine rears up
Heat tears the bitch from the waist up
Blood and fire spray across my face
Oh fuck
We outta luck now
Tell my man cheese it’s time to duck down
Hear the gun sound
Another ray scorch the ground
(A) Tall tripod of metal
Glistening like titanium
He blasts his heat ray
And catch a tank through the cranium
The beast stamps down
Pinning cheese on a rock_
But before my man burns
He let’s another nade off
Like blaugh!
Machine starts to drop _
Long metal legs crumbling
The ground shakes from the shock
Flames baking the block
I’m saved, drop my glock
Can’t believe I’ve escaped
Praise cheese for the shot
Now I figure that we’ve squashed
The threat _
I feel the barrel of the last tank’s
Gun on my neck, like…
+++
(It’s like) Blood murder magic
Stuck in a place damned
Face the gutter fight
In the motherfucking wasteland
Cold grey metal
Flooding over great sands
Taste the blood of life
In the motherfucking wasteland
+++
+++
Approach the fight with my swagger on
Me, cheese, and O.C.
Like the three
Musketeers of this shit
Bout to get some OGs
Busting tears in this bitch
Like them old school flicks
We’ll get ‘em cooled real quick
Crying, down on they motherfucking knees
Gazing up at me
Tell me where the stash at
Or be ready to face my heat
Some cats just don’t understand
How this place can be
If machines are the worst you seen
(Then) You ain’t seen me
You see dumb crooks embrace this new age
Like they can taste freedom
(But) Meet me in the wastes and tempt fate
Then son, you ain’t leaving
(Whether) Thieving
Or just mouthing me off?
I don’t give a shit, I’ll waste ya real quick
And bust off two shots
(In this spot) On this rock
There’s nothing to stop a cat like me
There’s no shots from police
When blocks burn to debris
Just keep an eye for machines
(As) When you creep across the landscape
Fiends remain fiends
And that’s something that will never change
+++
(It’s like) Blood murder magic
Stuck in a place damned
Face the gutter fight
In the motherfucking wasteland
Cold grey metal
Flooding over great sands
Taste the blood of life
In the motherfucking wasteland
+++
Pass a couple blocks
Closing on the spot
_ Open streets promise death
We (keep) in the shadow of rocks
and debris, When we step to the scene
Play it sweet
Cheese gives the nod
And we stop to check our weaponry
I cock the hand canon
(And) Hold it by waist line
C loads his heater
And cheese checks his nine
Just across the way
Around the burnt frame of the
Tower from yesterday
Is where they holding their weight
I scope the two dudes
Grabbing on this chick, they got her titties out
One dude smacks her in the face
Cat looks pretty stout
He laughs
Opens up his mouth, lets something witty out
I take aim with my pistol
Other dude starts to shout
Let a bullet out
First cat goes down
Trick screams
The second cat shouting: shut the fuck up now
_ Reaching for his heat
He snatches it
But catches a blast from OC
And plants his arse in the street
He keeps hollering
Searching on the ground for his gun
OC raise his rifle
Where the package at son?
Yo we tragically blunt
_ Chick still screaming
From the sight of the gun
We bout to finish this cunt
C’s breath turns to blood
As a shell shreds his rib cage
Ending the kid’s days
Oh fuck we been played
Me and cheese spin around
Guns cocked to shoot
And clock two more dudes
Armed in big suits
+++
(It’s like) Blood murder magic
Stuck in a place damned
Face the gutter fight
In the motherfucking wasteland
Cold grey metal
Flooding over great sands
Taste the blood of life
In the motherfucking wasteland
+++
We facing two human tanks
Men wrapped in metal
With big guns that bang
Here to settle the score
_ Them big boys approach
Clearly ready for war
They shredding OC’s corpse
Before he spread on the floor
But yo cheese got em locked off
Pops a couple shots off
Bullets bounce right of they chests
We hit the dust
Time to back pedal
We catch a breath behind some rubble
Take a sec to reload
Prepare to hit the road on the double
No chance
Bros on a steady advance
Then we hear one shout:
Who rules the motherfucking wastelands?
They laughing
Trigger fingers blasting
Shells banging round the ruins
Straight got us pinned _
My man cheese flash a grin
And rips the pin from grenade_
He whispers: fuck you bitch
And throws the shit their way
Hear em dip in the spray
Of red hot smoke and shrapnel
Walk out in the cloak
Steady firing out some action
Chick still screaming
She be caught in the cross fire
Don’t know who she fears more
Them or us
Machine rears up
Heat tears the bitch from the waist up
Blood and fire spray across my face
Oh fuck
We outta luck now
Tell my man cheese it’s time to duck down
Hear the gun sound
Another ray scorch the ground
(A) Tall tripod of metal
Glistening like titanium
He blasts his heat ray
And catch a tank through the cranium
The beast stamps down
Pinning cheese on a rock_
But before my man burns
He let’s another nade off
Like blaugh!
Machine starts to drop _
Long metal legs crumbling
The ground shakes from the shock
Flames baking the block
I’m saved, drop my glock
Can’t believe I’ve escaped
Praise cheese for the shot
Now I figure that we’ve squashed
The threat _
I feel the barrel of the last tank’s
Gun on my neck, like…
+++
(It’s like) Blood murder magic
Stuck in a place damned
Face the gutter fight
In the motherfucking wasteland
Cold grey metal
Flooding over great sands
Taste the blood of life
In the motherfucking wasteland
+++
Dreams (Draft)
When I was sixteen
I dreamt of dark grey cobblestones and tumbling forward
Tumbling towards the bricks
Of being pushed and hit from behind
Each impact propelling me forwards
But my skin never striking the ground
I dreamt of vague shadowy figures
A mass of violently twisting humans
Swarming around me
Surrounding me
I dreamt of blood and tiny dots of rhythm
Patterns on the sharp white porcelain
Red
White
Red
Hands under foaming taps
The shocked silence of mind
And a slow numbness
I dreamt of photographic paper
Shiny and white
A single sheet growing larger
Expanding until it filled the room
Getting darker and darker
Until the whole page is black
+++
When I was fourteen
I dreamt of rats
Crawling through the wallspace behind my head
Listening to my thoughts
And drawing plans against me
Tiny rodent hands
Moving with absolute precision
Creating the machinery
Of my oblivion
Miniscule bombs
Bear traps
Dart guns made from loose wires
Fierce grins
And harsh whiskers
+++
When I was six
I dreamt of an old woman
Running me over in a four wheel drive
And swearing at me
While my spinal column
Dripped out onto the pavement
Like spaghetti
I kept trying to gather up the spaghetti
Shovelling it in tiny hands
Back towards the hole in my neck
Until I was covered in tomato sauce
+++
When I was nine
I dreamt of my father’s fist
Ploughing through the wall like a battering ram
The plaster popped and splintered
Around his hard knuckles
Sending a white dust into the air
I dreamt of the expression on his face
The fierce roar of a steam locomotive
Exploding from his mouth and nostrils
With each thundering assault on the soft barrier between us
I dreamt of bloodstains
At the edge of each hole
Each ragged wound in our decaying house
Sizzling and burning
From the cancer
+++
When I was twelve
I dreamt the words
Hot wet cunt
And woke confused and ashamed despite my ignorance
+++
When I was nineteen
I dreamt of the desert
Long sheets of glass
Glistening in the sun
Scorpions and crows in the distance
A wild camel
Convulsing
Choking on a rock
And spraying blood over the dunes
As he desperately dried to cough it up
+++
When I was twenty-two
I dreamt of apocalypse
Of falling captive to the victors
And being enslaved deep underground
I dreamt of being tortured while wearing dark glasses
Sharp needles sending me through time
Spiralling nausea
As the years bunched up inside me
Hands groping for my destination
Then light
A breeze
Soft welcoming skin
But wait
That was just a movie
+++
When I was seventeen
I dreamt of riding the train
Late into the night
Passengers bubbling at the edges
A woman slumped in the seat beside me
Jolting awake at each station then returning to a drug addled void
A young boy tugging at her sleeve
Her son
Crying for her to wake as her concrete form swayed back and forwards in time with the train
Then the squeal of brakes
The grinding of doors sliding open
And the child screaming:
Hold the doors
Hold the fucking doors
Hold the fucking doors, This is our stop
And the mother awake
Stammering with vomit on her lips
Pushing her child towards the door
Pushing him out into the night
And the child screaming:
Hold the fucking doors
Waiting for his mother to step out
+++
When I was twenty-three
I dreamt of drinking bleach
Taking the liquid into my mouth
And holding it there
While the burning began
Feeling the blisters build in my throat
And the dull aching in my stomach
I dreamt of the
The unquenable thirst
And frantic rush for water
While looking to see who would come
An angel or the reaper
Only to find myself
Alone on the bathroom floor
With blood slowly dripping from my nose
+++
When I was twenty-one
I dreamt of a cancer patient
Asking me for change
At melbourne central station
Except I didn’t know she was a cancer patient
So I told her to fuck off
Then she started to cry
And all the other people came to help her
And I felt like a real cunt
But I didn’t know that she had cancer
I thought that she was just a bum
Trying to sell me some used cigarettes and chip packets
They all looked at me
With sparks and disgust in their eyes
Thinking: Look at that cunt
What a shit dream
I dreamt of dark grey cobblestones and tumbling forward
Tumbling towards the bricks
Of being pushed and hit from behind
Each impact propelling me forwards
But my skin never striking the ground
I dreamt of vague shadowy figures
A mass of violently twisting humans
Swarming around me
Surrounding me
I dreamt of blood and tiny dots of rhythm
Patterns on the sharp white porcelain
Red
White
Red
Hands under foaming taps
The shocked silence of mind
And a slow numbness
I dreamt of photographic paper
Shiny and white
A single sheet growing larger
Expanding until it filled the room
Getting darker and darker
Until the whole page is black
+++
When I was fourteen
I dreamt of rats
Crawling through the wallspace behind my head
Listening to my thoughts
And drawing plans against me
Tiny rodent hands
Moving with absolute precision
Creating the machinery
Of my oblivion
Miniscule bombs
Bear traps
Dart guns made from loose wires
Fierce grins
And harsh whiskers
+++
When I was six
I dreamt of an old woman
Running me over in a four wheel drive
And swearing at me
While my spinal column
Dripped out onto the pavement
Like spaghetti
I kept trying to gather up the spaghetti
Shovelling it in tiny hands
Back towards the hole in my neck
Until I was covered in tomato sauce
+++
When I was nine
I dreamt of my father’s fist
Ploughing through the wall like a battering ram
The plaster popped and splintered
Around his hard knuckles
Sending a white dust into the air
I dreamt of the expression on his face
The fierce roar of a steam locomotive
Exploding from his mouth and nostrils
With each thundering assault on the soft barrier between us
I dreamt of bloodstains
At the edge of each hole
Each ragged wound in our decaying house
Sizzling and burning
From the cancer
+++
When I was twelve
I dreamt the words
Hot wet cunt
And woke confused and ashamed despite my ignorance
+++
When I was nineteen
I dreamt of the desert
Long sheets of glass
Glistening in the sun
Scorpions and crows in the distance
A wild camel
Convulsing
Choking on a rock
And spraying blood over the dunes
As he desperately dried to cough it up
+++
When I was twenty-two
I dreamt of apocalypse
Of falling captive to the victors
And being enslaved deep underground
I dreamt of being tortured while wearing dark glasses
Sharp needles sending me through time
Spiralling nausea
As the years bunched up inside me
Hands groping for my destination
Then light
A breeze
Soft welcoming skin
But wait
That was just a movie
+++
When I was seventeen
I dreamt of riding the train
Late into the night
Passengers bubbling at the edges
A woman slumped in the seat beside me
Jolting awake at each station then returning to a drug addled void
A young boy tugging at her sleeve
Her son
Crying for her to wake as her concrete form swayed back and forwards in time with the train
Then the squeal of brakes
The grinding of doors sliding open
And the child screaming:
Hold the doors
Hold the fucking doors
Hold the fucking doors, This is our stop
And the mother awake
Stammering with vomit on her lips
Pushing her child towards the door
Pushing him out into the night
And the child screaming:
Hold the fucking doors
Waiting for his mother to step out
+++
When I was twenty-three
I dreamt of drinking bleach
Taking the liquid into my mouth
And holding it there
While the burning began
Feeling the blisters build in my throat
And the dull aching in my stomach
I dreamt of the
The unquenable thirst
And frantic rush for water
While looking to see who would come
An angel or the reaper
Only to find myself
Alone on the bathroom floor
With blood slowly dripping from my nose
+++
When I was twenty-one
I dreamt of a cancer patient
Asking me for change
At melbourne central station
Except I didn’t know she was a cancer patient
So I told her to fuck off
Then she started to cry
And all the other people came to help her
And I felt like a real cunt
But I didn’t know that she had cancer
I thought that she was just a bum
Trying to sell me some used cigarettes and chip packets
They all looked at me
With sparks and disgust in their eyes
Thinking: Look at that cunt
What a shit dream
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Teeth (Early Draft Fragments)
Fuck it, I guess I'm doing this again:
Won’t see the teeth
When they comin’ at ya
Blunt knives and hot breath
Creeping by the side of ya neck
Thinking life’s what’s
Inside of ya chest
And tonight be tonight
That you can’t (fucking) hide from ya death
So why’d you leave
The nine on ya desk?
Sweat smothers your face
There’s no escape from this kind of a threat
You shake at the scent
Of bile and old blood stains
Dried out skin
And putrified entrails
A little bit of pressure
At the tip of ya spine
You taste blood
Fear gripping ya mind
You don’t speak
But you’re screaming inside
Your scheme ain’t shit
And now you fiend for time
‘Cause motherfucker knows his business
Cuts the quickness
He’ll leave you dripping
With a crimson necklace
Won’t see the teeth
When they comin’ at ya
Blunt knives and hot breath
Creeping by the side of ya neck
Thinking life’s what’s
Inside of ya chest
And tonight be tonight
That you can’t (fucking) hide from ya death
So why’d you leave
The nine on ya desk?
Sweat smothers your face
There’s no escape from this kind of a threat
You shake at the scent
Of bile and old blood stains
Dried out skin
And putrified entrails
A little bit of pressure
At the tip of ya spine
You taste blood
Fear gripping ya mind
You don’t speak
But you’re screaming inside
Your scheme ain’t shit
And now you fiend for time
‘Cause motherfucker knows his business
Cuts the quickness
He’ll leave you dripping
With a crimson necklace
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Liow Gigs
_
My man Liow has a whole bunch of gigs coming up in the coming weeks, make sure you get down there and check out some quality music. I checked out his quartet about a month ago and they were straight dope.
27 August 2008 - 8:00 PM
The Paris Cat, Melbourne CBD
1 October 2008 - 9:00 PM
Gertrudes, Fitzroy
26 October 2008 - 8:00 PM
Bar Open, Brunswick St Fitzroy
28 October 2008 - 7:30 PM
Bennett's Lane, Melbourne CBD
Check out his myspace here.
My man Liow has a whole bunch of gigs coming up in the coming weeks, make sure you get down there and check out some quality music. I checked out his quartet about a month ago and they were straight dope.
27 August 2008 - 8:00 PM
The Paris Cat, Melbourne CBD
1 October 2008 - 9:00 PM
Gertrudes, Fitzroy
26 October 2008 - 8:00 PM
Bar Open, Brunswick St Fitzroy
28 October 2008 - 7:30 PM
Bennett's Lane, Melbourne CBD
Check out his myspace here.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Horrorshow Album Online
_
I hate to be a fanboy, but sometimes I just can't help it. Sydney duo Horrorshow are releasing their debut album in a couple of days and the whole thing is available for your listening pleasure on their myspace page. I've been playing it non-stop for the past few days and I can't get enough of it. In my opinion this is one of the best hip-hop albums to come out of Australia. Great subtle production throughout, and the sort of lyrics I wish I could write myself. This is not your everyday beers bitches & barbecues Australian hip-hop. This is music with soul & intelligence. Enough said, have a listen and if you like what you hear go and buy the album next week!
I hate to be a fanboy, but sometimes I just can't help it. Sydney duo Horrorshow are releasing their debut album in a couple of days and the whole thing is available for your listening pleasure on their myspace page. I've been playing it non-stop for the past few days and I can't get enough of it. In my opinion this is one of the best hip-hop albums to come out of Australia. Great subtle production throughout, and the sort of lyrics I wish I could write myself. This is not your everyday beers bitches & barbecues Australian hip-hop. This is music with soul & intelligence. Enough said, have a listen and if you like what you hear go and buy the album next week!
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Illzilla - Cut Feet
I dig this. I'd say it's one of the better Australian hip-hop videos I've seen recently. (Sort of reminds me of this.)
Link: Illzilla MySpace
Monday, August 4, 2008
The Rhymes of Vast Aire
I finally picked up Cannibal Ox's "The Cold Vein" about six months ago (too late I know). Originally I picked it up to hear some more vintage El-P production, but what really struck me was Vast Aire's rhymes. I'd heard him before on some guest spots and I'd really enjoyed his slow, lazy style, but what I heard on The Cold Vein just blew me away.
In their best moments, his lyrics are arresting and evocative. Listening to Vast came me the confidence that rap doesn't have to be ultra-rhythmically-complex to sound good and be effective.
One of my favourite Vast verses is his one on A B-Boy's Alpha. When I first heard this I just couldn't believe what I was hearing. The authenticity in his words, the sheer bluntness and honesty. It's simply astounding.
Enjoy:
My mother said:
"You sucked my pussy when you came out
Don't ever talk back
I handed you life, and I'll snatch it back"
I'm just a latch key kid with a snotty nose
High school drop out
Space, I'm around me whiteout
And I ain't dealin with no minimum wage
I'd rather construct rhymes on a minimum page
Cynical ways, cats sin for nickels these days
Pulling the chrome out
And you actin like pullin the chrome out
Hated the sound of grandma's cryin the crooked letter
You could hear it from the ground or when the sky thunders
Made you wonder 'bout early
Sunday morning
Relatives dressed in black and they all mourning
Flows be bangin in the paint, throwin elbows
My first fight was me against five boroughs
I lost my first wish
But remembered every detail of my first kiss
That's that Bronx Tale bliss
The holiest of holies
Hip hop, it was '88
Even at the age of 10, phrases levitate
Drinkin Lil' Hug quarter waters
Dodgin stray slugs on the corner in that exact order
Why you playin, death is what happens?
I found the passion in aerosol cans and hands clappin
Backspins, microphones and cats rappin
Linoleum and up rockers, the show shockers
Who rip knee patches off of imposters
You ain't the Real McCoy, you a wind up toy
And it's gonna cost ya
And that's my B-Boy Alpha
In their best moments, his lyrics are arresting and evocative. Listening to Vast came me the confidence that rap doesn't have to be ultra-rhythmically-complex to sound good and be effective.
One of my favourite Vast verses is his one on A B-Boy's Alpha. When I first heard this I just couldn't believe what I was hearing. The authenticity in his words, the sheer bluntness and honesty. It's simply astounding.
Enjoy:
My mother said:
"You sucked my pussy when you came out
Don't ever talk back
I handed you life, and I'll snatch it back"
I'm just a latch key kid with a snotty nose
High school drop out
Space, I'm around me whiteout
And I ain't dealin with no minimum wage
I'd rather construct rhymes on a minimum page
Cynical ways, cats sin for nickels these days
Pulling the chrome out
And you actin like pullin the chrome out
Hated the sound of grandma's cryin the crooked letter
You could hear it from the ground or when the sky thunders
Made you wonder 'bout early
Sunday morning
Relatives dressed in black and they all mourning
Flows be bangin in the paint, throwin elbows
My first fight was me against five boroughs
I lost my first wish
But remembered every detail of my first kiss
That's that Bronx Tale bliss
The holiest of holies
Hip hop, it was '88
Even at the age of 10, phrases levitate
Drinkin Lil' Hug quarter waters
Dodgin stray slugs on the corner in that exact order
Why you playin, death is what happens?
I found the passion in aerosol cans and hands clappin
Backspins, microphones and cats rappin
Linoleum and up rockers, the show shockers
Who rip knee patches off of imposters
You ain't the Real McCoy, you a wind up toy
And it's gonna cost ya
And that's my B-Boy Alpha
Monday, July 28, 2008
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Free Music
Downloaded a couple of good mixes over the last couple of days. Dig it:
This is half of the limited 2CD tour only CD El-P recently released. Only listened to it once so far, but the beats are sounding dope. You have to sign up to the Def Jux website to get this one but it doesn't take long. Dig it.
The raps can get a little boring on this one, but the beats are solid all the way through. If only there was more like the Beans & Despot freestyles (I never expected to have so many songs featuring T.I and Young Buck on my iTunes). But still, it's worth a download. Dig it.
I can't wait to hear the Ratatat production on the Depot album (which I can't wait for in general).
El-P - WeAreAllGoingToBurnInHellMegaMixx2
This is half of the limited 2CD tour only CD El-P recently released. Only listened to it once so far, but the beats are sounding dope. You have to sign up to the Def Jux website to get this one but it doesn't take long. Dig it.Ratatat - Remixes Volume II
The raps can get a little boring on this one, but the beats are solid all the way through. If only there was more like the Beans & Despot freestyles (I never expected to have so many songs featuring T.I and Young Buck on my iTunes). But still, it's worth a download. Dig it.I can't wait to hear the Ratatat production on the Depot album (which I can't wait for in general).
Friday, July 11, 2008
Welcome to the world of lost souls...
...as defined by Liow (otherwise known as MySpace). I've finally gotten my myspace groove on, and uploaded the newly completed "Terrorism" on there.
I have to say I hate myspace. I don't like these types of websites in general, but myspace is really terrible. So hard to use, really un-userfriendly. And I'm not just struggling with it because I can't ues a computer. I work as a web designer, so if it's hard for me then I'm really unimpressed.
But there it is. If you want people to hear your music, then you get a myspace page. Or so they say.
So, check out my page at: www.myspace.com/gaijinrap
At the very least you will be able to hear Terrorism at long last. (I will try and post it on here sometime soon.)
Many thanks to Liow for his extreme patience and generosity. He is a true artist, and I am very grateful for all the time and effort he has spent working on this project with me. Look out for our next collaboration "Psychotherapy" coming up soon.
I have to say I hate myspace. I don't like these types of websites in general, but myspace is really terrible. So hard to use, really un-userfriendly. And I'm not just struggling with it because I can't ues a computer. I work as a web designer, so if it's hard for me then I'm really unimpressed.
But there it is. If you want people to hear your music, then you get a myspace page. Or so they say.
So, check out my page at: www.myspace.com/gaijinrap
At the very least you will be able to hear Terrorism at long last. (I will try and post it on here sometime soon.)
Many thanks to Liow for his extreme patience and generosity. He is a true artist, and I am very grateful for all the time and effort he has spent working on this project with me. Look out for our next collaboration "Psychotherapy" coming up soon.
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