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CERTAIN DEATH 001

Certain Death 001 is pjaro - Softcore.

An unlimited run of CD-r copies available for £1 until it’s determined that it should end.

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PJARO are ordinary men in an ordinary city, working ordinary jobs, eating ordinary meals. They spend their evenings and weekends in isolation writing and recording music in their sanctuary: Tye Die Tapes. But the walls are beginning to tremble. As the Eternal Lizard, disguised as a gold-gilt Nando’s, rears its head and turns to look poor Earth square in the eye, the clouds blacken, the sun begins to choke and the trees wither and die. Parvati watches and weeps.

  Delivered unto the world by new record-releasing entity Certain Death, Softcore is not a rebellion or an act of defiance. Do not think of Softcore as a cure.  It is the acceptance of fate.

  On May 4th Softcore will become available to all seekers on the archaic and highly prized – yet slimline – CD-R format. Following will be an Australian edition on Ruined Smile Records.

  Not convinced? Attend the rallies; open your mind to the truth.

  2.5.15 SHEFFIELD – The Audacious Art Experiment w/ Clocked Out, Long Limbs + more

7.5.15 EDINBURGH – Banshee Labyrinth w/ Britney, Min Diesel and Dam Teeth

8.5.15 DUNDEE – Westport Bar w/ Min Diesel and Shithawks

9.5.15 ABERDEEN – Cellar 35 w/ Min Diesel, Carson Wells and Das McManus

  The Eternal Lizard comes forth. Abandon hope, but take comfort in knowing that one day it too will die. Slowly, painfully.

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Pulsating growths spread across a shrine to Saeed Al-Owairan - a byproduct of advanced genetic mutation and the only lifeform left on earth. A grey river, carved into DDT-riven soil, carries a bootleg, monochrome Judge Dredd figurine - the last product on earth produced by the last man in the last factory, in Singapore. Incomplete, and a flickering LED display board bearing the words "Lo t Wi ho t U". The Seasons now bear the burden of Man, tilling the fields with streams of wind and grasping the baton from humanity in the struggle against the Lunar Tide. The earth spirit groans with growing pains as it untethers itself from binds imposed by the monkey on its back, now deceased.

In its final days the withered tree, diseased, birthed sprouts into a renewed world. Burrowing a route to light through a sea of ash, to peak their tips above waterline. The light, blasphemed by The Destroyer of Worlds cast a ray to draw toward it the life force of Earth - no longer suffering Man's lack of self-control. Bursting the garrotte from its gaunt, guillotined neck like a flower coming into bloom, no flowers come into bloom, only clouds of black tar bloom. Like a cloud of black tar coming into bloom. The world wakes to good morning mutilation and a shootfight for control. Wrangling the remainder of the Human dinner money from its reluctant hand only to find that it's a barley legible IOU. From the midst of a mushroom cloud emerges a pale horse and, from it's formless rider's neck,  a plaque inscribed with the words "I can do whatever I want, ooh baby. I can do whatever I want, finally. I can do whatever I want, freedom. I can do whatever I want, freedom. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me all over." and his name that sat on him was Death.