The depth of that wide oceanic lake was trivial. It was just a body of water, and in my mind, it filled up as a side note to my world view, in an odd way.
The weather was nice and brisk that Autumn day. The sun was bright, but with a slow but nice feeling breeze, the streets next to the lake seemed to howl in a sub-silent hum, as I’d reached the beach. The sand looked dry and hard, as the misgivings of a chilly day, amplified that notion. It wasn’t true of course, for sand in a semi-warm day, would still be just loose sand. In a smooth transition, I took up a crouching stance over a patch of that tan sand, and took a palm full. From then I’d watch it slip through my fingers, as thousands of grains of earth’s natural offering slipped through my fingers.
As the last of the sand grains fell out of my hand, I looked up again to see the seemingly vast looking lake’s expanse. Boy, it never got old, as whenever looking at it, I’d just gape with awe, as the Autumn winds now gust a bit over the surface of the lake, generating crests in white and speckled sprays of water. It was always a serene vision, whenever I’d visit.
Getting up to a straight stance again, as I clapped my hands to get rid of the last sticking bits of the sand, I sighed a bit. Sighing was a ritual of mine. Especially when the visit to the lake was over. Well, when I decided to make it end, at least. If I didn’t have the discipline to have a specific time to end my visit, I’d stare at the horizon over that beautiful lake until night fall.
Of course I couldn’t do that. I had a family. I had a job to prepare for, as well. Responsibility was always reminding me to cut it short.
So, every time.
WRECK AND REFERENCE’s latest full-length album ‘Absolute Still’ is an experimental master class. A radical departure from the band’s noise rock origins, the outfit digs deep – way deep – into the world of electronic and synth counter formats. Warped synthesizers, ripped-apart samples, disparate harmonies, make it a hall mark of the album and its creators.
There is no glory. If there’s no you to gloat.
The abstract painting of ‘Sturdy Dawn’ is manic, radical, hard-hitting, frenetic, and, weird enough, very serene. Of course, the sound levels are not ‘serene’, but the message – that tantalizing finger squishing into your brain membrane is delicious. You can hear your emotions grate like hard cheese against cold steel, as the embarkment for your soul, burns into darkness and dust.
But you’re okay with that.
And that notion, makes you nervous.
WRECK AND REFERENCE throws out the everything, including the bathwater, and surges forward with their notion for absolution. The writing implementation for raw instigation is palpable and so lovely to listen to.
It’s like that odd first look across the lake. You, alone, in your thoughts, begging for it to end.
The ending of this.
For an exchange for the next bargain in life.
This project is of Felix Skinner and Ignat Frege’s way of loving our listening souls.
And back in that time I can remember walking around on an empty floor with a box of nails half open I remember that I was memorizing lines for a play out of fate out of fear the box it was at least half open and at least I wasn’t hungry except for thinking an idea like who cares what you live for in your garden the only things that will grow are pains coming alive before a sturdy dawn I was pacing the garden I was memorizing my lines it’s just an old house it’s just a condition I fear sometimes I’m afraid of sentences but sentences will never appear on broken television They won’t appear on your broken phone you are also broken you are also tired you are also car tires and the car tires are on fire In the next life if you’re lucky does the burning pile of rubber that is actually you have to wait to burn stop playing the dirty dawn like it’s stupid stop giving in to idiocy out of fate out of fear you were practicing your lines didn’t you practice you fucking clown of fate it’s just an old house its just a condition you fear these lines won’t appear on a forgotten television they won’t appear on your broken phone out of fate out of fear we’re running out of things can you wait or go to the store first I can’t tell that you’re not sick you’re not tired you’re just paranoid and nameless quit trying to blame the decapitated dawn quit trying to memorize my lines for a play I didn’t ask to be a part of before I was thrown vulgar and wet out of the tunnel out of fate out of fear quit trying to blame the decapitated dawn I’m just trying to memorize my lines for a play I didn’t ask to be a part of before I was thrown vulgar and wet out of the tunnel out of fate out of fear and maybe I will see the sturdy dawn quit trying to blame the decapitated dawn quit trying to memorize my lines for a play I didn’t ask to be a part of before I was thrown vulgar and wet out of the tunnel out of fate out of fear and maybe I will see the sturdy dawn quit trying to blame the decapitated dawn I’m just trying to memorize my lines for a play I didn’t ask to be a part of before I was thrown vulgar and wet out of the tunnel out of fate out of fear and maybe I will see the sturdy dawn the present is a bloated pig floating in a blithe caravan of black trash bags to heaven scrape up whatever you can to put together that tomorrow even though in present fever dreams who knows what it means to feel or see or expect the pigs to tell apart the truth confused about why some ideas persist some die a rightful death some reborn to die again that must mean the numbers didn’t help at all don’t punish me if you won’t punish the “me” of yesterday if I had two wishes after cancelling your wishes I would ask for more silence more silence claw my eyes out if I had two wishes after cancelling your wishes I would ask for more silence more silence the javelin flying at me is my secret friend.