Month: August 2016
reindeer now officially part of the anette records family
…a hissing a buzzing over the valves, switch-boards coming to life, tape machines whirring into activity… it is with much jubilance and gladness that i am today able to announce that, after years in the wilderness and after much behind-the-scenes communications, i am now officially part of the anette records family…
i can scarcely word how much this union means to me, nor can i scarcely contain news of what lies in store from this point on… but how i do want to extend my deepest gratitude to the almighty strizi, for seeing me fit to join the ranks, but also for keeping an eye on me during much darker hours…
…anette records is a wonderful DIY enterprise, which already features a roster of such talented artists, many of whom i am already deeply honoured to be acquainted with… please do be sure to lend your support to the cause, investigate their releases and stay tuned for forthcoming announcements…
all the love
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image reports from CNNWTZ – no. 009
image reports from CNNWTZ – no. 008
image reports from CNNWTZ – no. 007
by the bitter lake we sat down and wept… no.1
another suicide in the financial district… grim politician masks stare lifeless from the podium… roaring drone of helicopter gunships resonate through the catacombs of the mausoleum… child soldiers bleed to death in field hospitals as the markets expand… wallowing in the economic filth and writhing in the blood and fuel… detestable actions of the few…
a series of blurry images from the field… snapshots within the turmoil of the western lands… meaningless days and nights filled with harrowing images coming in from the still… spectral torment tumbles and sets in a series of numbing waves… artillery and rocket fire. shells pounding the old town as drones glide in insect tones high above the demilitarised zone…
concrete tower blocks cast long shadows over empty lots as flames dance and rise from burning cars amidst the chaotic swarm of rioting… extending patterns of grim intent drawing themselves out into a vast mosaic of guilt and surveillance, distrust, abuse and callous calculation… scratching ‘six six seven’ into grey slates waist deep in the dead river…
poisoned well-water, blighted crops failing in the dead ground… the river winding on through the war-torn lands as bodies litter the ruined villages since abandoned… board members picking at the rotting hollows of broken lands and distant lives… we ride the train-lines and bathe in the radiance… filtering the signals down to nothing, worshipping our ornaments of servitude…
futile lives lived out within a nightmare world of worthless action… bleating in the pit… narrowing our worldview… stripping language of its meaning… seeking calm and escape in mindless soma abandon… falling over ourselves to be free… weeping into the reflecting pool and trying to describe how it feels to a fading reflection staring back from a mirror left undusted…
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image reports from CNNWTZ – no. 006
outpost dissonance feedback no.1
…outpost dissonance feedback… quonset in flames… horizontal coleman’s burning, spitting fire… open-twin throne burner, desert futility… do the dirty fingernail scrape, do the flint-lock; the harrowed reprise… hack a two-foot incision into the guts of the giant centipede and crawl inside…
…fields of desolation… cockroaches march down crenshaw… witness sublimation at the foot of the obsidian monolith… priest fingers choking the congregation… santa muerte ghost-riding the whip… maximum death-penalty… bible-belt-fed-armour-piercing rounds…
…go live… two-room column of fire into the heavens… gas station specials, AR-15’s and the scream of the bleeding valves… ‘art don’t give you what you thought it was gonna give you’ …throat-clutch of the warden… bandana city; the jailhouse wins…
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image reports from CNNWTZ – no. 005
hallucination dreams from the abandoned desert camp no.1
colombian necktie sky exploration… cold diamond skin crawl… black handle regalia… upstream poison fields… tucson rap promoters in flames… fingers in the driest mouths…
licking the screen, decimated… do that dawn chorus, that vaccination grave… boardroom anomaly… christ wept… prarie dogs at the throats of roaming priests… torch-lit quicksand baptism ceremony…
‘…i am shot with wounds which have eyes that see a world all sorrow, always to be, panoramic and unhealable, and mouths that hang unspeakable in the sky of blood…’
dead end horror of the centipede god… fumigating misery through the groaning valves… hounding the workforce into grim submission… willow, weep for me… honey-dip agony… billboard reads: ‘this will not end’.
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