Into the tangle of unreleased tape Royal plunged his fingers.
misery quotient by Rope and Pulley Records
Monday, December 21, 2009
Sunday, December 13, 2009
wutzatrker 8
wutzatrker 8 by Rope and Pulley Records
Will Roy Lambas sip the rim?
The laptop's bright, the profits slim.
Will Roy Lambas the far crest reach?
The trough's traversed, the barrier breached.
Will Roy Lambas hoe this row?
The blisters smart, the black tears flow.
Listen to this track and say
What final epitaph to spray
Upon his stone with aerosol,
"Highest Rise", or "Steepest Fall"?
Will Roy Lambas sip the rim?
The laptop's bright, the profits slim.
Will Roy Lambas the far crest reach?
The trough's traversed, the barrier breached.
Will Roy Lambas hoe this row?
The blisters smart, the black tears flow.
Listen to this track and say
What final epitaph to spray
Upon his stone with aerosol,
"Highest Rise", or "Steepest Fall"?
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
Interview Excerpt 1
Interviewer: So why the turn toward instrumental music?
R./B./F./A.: Why doesn’t your t-shirt say anything on it?
Interviewer: You’re saying your work is like a t-shirt?
R./B./F./A.: No. I’m saying you choose not to betray yourself when you got dressed this morning.
Interviewer: But I mean . . . the t-shirt you're wearing right now . . . it says-
R./B./F./A.: Look, maybe we should do this another time . . .
R./B./F./A.: Why doesn’t your t-shirt say anything on it?
Interviewer: You’re saying your work is like a t-shirt?
R./B./F./A.: No. I’m saying you choose not to betray yourself when you got dressed this morning.
Interviewer: But I mean . . . the t-shirt you're wearing right now . . . it says-
R./B./F./A.: Look, maybe we should do this another time . . .
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
Friday, February 20, 2009
Whirl Shudder Repeat
Lab coat pale as my skin. Assaying sound's tensile strength. Voltage corresponds to my science's heart, its hard core.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Does the Jazz Lead to Destruction?
The fiery furnace once survived asks its question: Now what? Count backwards, remembering to syncopate, and you'll feel your heels graze the Lake of Fire. In the meantime. . .
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Brake owt hit oh niner!
Close the decade out. Anything it takes. Techno is not kind to the miniaturist. The size of a rat's skull, outlined in neon. We'll slip through, partner. Won't we?
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