1: “no one ever hears music past the first time, everything after is just a high fidelity echo, fading already even in the midst of our own incarnations, then we’re born and we walk around for a little while, humming, whistling, tapping our feet trying to find the note, the beat the sound anything to get us back to the source just one more time before we start the slow certain process of dying to ourselves, life shrinking little by little the echo growing fainter and further until it falls silent, if only we could hear that song one more time. i look for music everywhere, in basements and roller rinks, i learnt the guitar and fell down the stairs while holding it in my hands, i sang in church choirs, i sat through funerals just to hear the organ play, i started a band and screamed into rusty microphones jumping around the stage until my shoes filled with blood, but it wasn’t enough, sure sometimes i’d close my eyes and the band would play and i’d feel a pulse in my whole body and my mouth would drop open until i was holy but it only lasted for a moment. it was so big and memory was so small, i couldn’t contain it. i once saw a man get shot outside a club we were playing, it sounded like gods own snare drum at the beginning of time, an orchestra tuned up in the scattering sky, the incidents conductor raised his hands in the air. i was sure it was the start of something special but the music never came. i tried everything, i turned up the stereo and stuck my head inside the speakers cone until my whole scull rang, i stuffed my ears with cotton and pressed my chest against the megaton subwoofer’s beneath the hospital main stage, until my body threatened to shake loose, i fell back on the ways of science, the teachings of my chemist father. first i threw out any record with words, being a singer myself i knew how useless they were, after that it was anything with guitars, then drums and so on until i only bought records that sounded like the giant hum of empty train tracks at midnight, things went on like this for the better part of three decades. my life spinning around me like a record on a turn table, the world getting smaller and faster as the needle drew closer to the centre label, until every recognizable tone fell away and all that was left was the static and skip of the run out groove. over and over again. i went searching for the sound in a bag of heroin.”
germansingergirl
prguitarman
tangentwithtanner
snowghoul
yousharknotpass
origamiaround
areudirty
