Municipal waste had been laid out to rest for times now immemorial.
Local residents squandered and made do with the few scraps of decency they could still afford.
Disdained and humiliated they now congregated in cliques and sects, venturing into dangerous territories to scrape for food, garbage, whatever they could lay their hands upon, at the same time dealing in illicit trafficking of all sorts, their kin and souls included, selling whatever humanity was left in them for decrepit surgically enhanced robotic concoctions, leaving behind their very same kind. Or was it civilization itself that had deceived them and moved on without them? Had people ever been of any use?
Bodies rendered irremediably unrecognizable, their offspring lived in extreme squalor and lurid poverty as deranged pedophile realtors waged war against the crippled inhabitants and the weakest seeking revenge over the things they could not make theirs and exploit: take everything you can and rape the rest, burnt them all to ashes and rape them again, they yelled, and so they did. Uglified and armored, ready for an all out conflict in pursuit of affordable housing and shelter for genetically engineered militant probes sprawling out of their own bodily vehicles now livid with tumefactions and monstrous growths. The body suits had absorbed through skins and bones, their warped lust for flesh a beating organ no one yet knew the purpose of.
Gambling and prostitution were rampant and synonymous with the repellent living conditions the people endoured and the religious distorted beliefs they entertained themselves in, justifying cruel rites of seasonal passings no one could really remember believing in.
Batteries of drugged out priests roamed the streets in fleshy papal garments, their old hairy dicks pendulating from rubbery synthetic overcoats, deadly testicles dangling around morbidly like bells snatched out of a sinful decrepit abbey where unspeakable acts of sorcery had been recited and ancient evils summoned.
Ravens rummaged through swollen carcasses while peddlers begged and stand-ins watched and waited for their turn to shine and die in place of wealthier passersby who had the means to spare themselves from torture and survive the high-rise heat heaving over the decried population of a city which spoke more of its sorry state than of the kind it once belonged to.
Deemed lost and irretrievable, the city had been partly vacated save for those doomed souls who couldn’t or just wouldn’t let in and leave. Their once civil habits turned havoc and violent, and chaos reigned at the DEAD club where once renowned singers and performers from all over the world had been staging plays and entertaining the masses, now pathetic shows of awful truths, of comorbidity and desperation, as narcoleptic acts of forceful sex were routinely showcased on a revolting circular stage for an audience of mean men and women alike, all of whom thirsty for pain and instant gratification of blood and metal and flesh, all together encompassed into the newly evolved breed of sub-god boneless blobs of meat which had been spawning out from the sewage system for a while. What lived underneath a mystery no one really cared to investigate nor dared to solve but no one actually spared them (or it whatever you may wanna call those things), all of them citizens of nowhere deeply enjoyed the sadistic pleasures of devouring those somehow holy creatures, of hunting them down, exploiting their childlike innocence and sense of wonder. The perfect scapegoat, a doll of flesh to act primordial instincts and clinical depression upon.
Downtown assassins had been called to intervene in the lowlands and sweep the city out of the unwanted. Tenants running away like rats dispersing into the toxic nebulae of soot and chemical discharge. Buildings came down one after the other taking down with them memories of long-gone households and generations consumed by cluttering, fire and disease. Beneath the rubble and debris lay the mortal remnants of children and burnt out toys, now absurd happenings of a long series of tragic catastrophes, all muted, casualties no one left to mourn over, nothing but pseudo events of a non-historical condition of non-existence.
Resources depleted, wastelands ravaged by hunger creeping in like an infection. Putrid limbs sticking out of the cratered ground, stripped of any lifelike resemblance. Scavengers dug only to find more useless trash, heaving over the unbearable fumes the earth itself had been spewing sick.
Conjectures, all of them untrue, decried the Tower army over the fearful trajectories theories had been taking. Nonsense, no one can be left alive in the zones of alienation. Those territories are long gone. Move on, they said while squadrons were being sent in to finish off survivors no one would dare to call human anymore. Besieged, betrayed, indifferent to their own fate, the whole group was eliminated. Drones lost into the horizon, on their way to other mass slaughterings, all in the name of progress and efficiency. Man was overall content with its very own fate, it chose its own destiny and inasmuch felt free and fulfilled. “I die by my own hand, when I decide to do so, and so do my brothers”, stated a high ranking member of the clergy. And so they did.
An ambitious cross-genre journey from the Richmond Avant Improv Collective, who bring in 17 (!) guest musicians to fill out their vision. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 12, 2021
A split from modular synth wizard Nils Quak and free-form psych duo Flamingo Creatures splits the difference between cosmic and organic. Bandcamp New & Notable Sep 10, 2020
The first release on Cacophonous Revival, from experimentalist Samuel Goff, uses avant-garde approaches to get at personal narratives. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 4, 2020
When two longtime improv jazz collaborators meet these powerful peers from another city, the result is alchemical magic. Bandcamp Album of the Day Feb 23, 2017
David Helm & Jozef Dumoulin dive into the haunting abyss of improvisational electronics on this harrowing, mysterious record. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 5, 2022
Bruce Russell of The Dead C comes to Bandcamp, bringing with him an archive of rare & unreleased material, with more in the coming months. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 22, 2021
