LOADING DATA
Cicada the Burrower
Members | |
---|---|
Alexander Monday | Lyrics |
Member(bands): Casu Marzu | |
Cameron Davis | All instruments, Vocals (2011-present) |
Member(bands): Hallowed Hands, Voidwalker, Weightless, The Mended Dead, Casu Marzu, Fossegrim, Husk, idonteven, It’s All You, Cowboy, mmhmm, The Fire Sermon, Corpser |
# | Discography | Type | Year | |
---|---|---|---|---|
1 | The Stoic | Demo | 2012 | Show album |
2 | Gaia Promo | Demo | 2012 | Show album |
3 | GAIA | EP | 2013 | Show album |
4 | Plague Bringer | Single | 2013 | Show album |
5 | Despoina | Full-length | 2013 | Show album |
6 | The Oasis | Full-length | 2014 | Show album |
7 | Cicada the Burrower / Mountains of Light | Split | 2015 | Show album |
8 | The Great Nothing | Full-length | 2017 | Show album |
The Stoic
Tracks | |||
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1. | The Cry of Gulls | 03:06 | |
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2. | Distilled Hatred | 03:49 | |
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3. | Basalt | 03:16 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
4. | Waves | 04:41 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
5. | He Dreamt of Giants | 03:55 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
18:47 |
Gaia Promo
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Cameron Davis | All instruments, Vocals |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Alexander Monday | Lyrics |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | A Handful of Dust | 04:26 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | They Are Screaming | 04:12 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
08:38 |
GAIA
Members | |
---|---|
Cameron Davis | All instruments, Vocals |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | In Silence | 04:58 | Show lyrics |
My Beatrice came from over the Labe Bohemian like I On Summer nights I concealed my Heart in my jacket pocket. When I spoke, my words were Slow and careful, And fluttered Away with every breath of smoke, In Silence. With my back to the warm, yellow glow of suburban lights, And beneath an uncertain, cloudy night, My longing eyes were obscured. The sweet, pungent odor of silver cocktails… Covered the desire on my breath. Star of descending night! Fair is thy light…. My Beatrice came from over the Labe, Now, she has returned there. I have glimpsed paradise and was blinded by its light. My joyous confession is solemn in her absence. My voice is but a whisper. Futile and pleading. It’s nothing, love. You’re shaking like a feather. Hold me, Let’s go. We will sleep together. |
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2. | They Are Screaming | 04:09 | Show lyrics |
The worms are dying. Why are they are scattered on the pavement, like a broken jigsaw puzzle? They are bloated. They are pink like the corners of eyes. Tragic and repulsive, They writhe, and wriggle, and knot- Great and terrible knots- On the glossy, gray pavement. We have left the hose on too long, And now, the worms are dying. Their brown faces... Are crinkled like crushed oilcans, And weeping fiercely, But they haven’t any eyes... Or legs. They are screaming. The work... screaming. And this is the place where some of the worms had withdrawn to die. We are people! We are people! Their screams are inaudible. |
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3. | GAIA | 03:29 | Show lyrics |
The world we know is a flower. Immaculate, And red, Like weeping, Its stem rises from the vast, Infertile failure of waste. Even the bath water is tinged yellow now, Like piss and cowardice. All of the waste is contrived in the guts of men, Sated, And incurious. All of the waste is contrived in society’s tangled, Growling bowels, And the air is thick with it now. What is a man to do when nothing is created but waste, And everything is burned in pyres, Like dead emperors? |
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4. | A Handful of Dust | 04:27 | Show lyrics |
Leaves fall And wander through the air, Like ash from a burning home. In the wind, The trees whisper, "We do not forgive. We do not forgive." Every breath of Winter air Sharply kisses the trees And the mourner’s faces. It is relentless. The elms stand over the mourners, With arms raised in sorrow. The trees are born of the skeletons that inhabit the earth between their roots, And they grow forth into towering skeletons, Above the black huddled mass. The trees never knew- Now they know the bottom. A hole is in the earth, People are thrown in it, And dirt. Each family member offers A handful of dust, To the quiet and reposed. They have always taken, But now, at last, to their fondest, they give A handful Of dust. |
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5. | Warmth from a Distant Light | 02:59 | Show lyrics |
All is placid now, For the drowsy dawn Has risen From the phantasmal ashes Of twilight’s untamed musings, And blazes in ethereal colors, Just before me. I might reach out And touch it, Were I ignorant Of its inevitable approach. I am resurrected From my infertile slumber And my vague, fantastic dreaming. To bear again, The truth, My volatile humors, And the heavy wait Of my salvation. I am Sisyphus; I command the hand of god. |
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20:02 |
Plague Bringer
Members | |
---|---|
Cameron Davis | All instruments, Vocals |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Plague Bringer | 05:55 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
05:55 |
Despoina
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
October 30th, 2013 | Independent | Digital | ||
July 17th, 2016 | Blue Bedroom Records | Digital | Bandcamp | |
July 17th, 2016 | Blue Bedroom Records | CD |
Members | |
---|---|
Alexander Monday | Lyrics |
Cameron Davis | All instruments, Vocals |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | We Drifted | 00:58 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Only the Elms Remember | 03:54 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
3. | Down the Coast | 02:27 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
4. | Simple Insect Heart | 04:19 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
5. | Ghost | 05:06 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
6. | He Dreamt of Words | 03:38 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
7. | In Shapeless Repose | 02:43 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
8. | Weep for the Dead | 03:47 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
9. | Plague Bringer | 04:38 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
31:30 |
The Oasis
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
October 23rd, 2014 | Independent | Digital | ||
December 16th, 2014 | Blue Bedroom Records | BBR-001 | CD | CD-R |
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Alexander Monday | Lyrics |
Cameron Davis | All instruments, Vocals |
Guest/Session | |
Keegan Waggett | Vocals (additional) (track 2) |
Nick Bartley | Drums (additional) (tracks 4, 5) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Sawyer Hildebrandt | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | The Birth of the Living | 07:24 | Show lyrics |
There was once an emptiness, that bore from the limitless darkness of its womb, all that would ever be. For a moment, for an eternity, A solitary glimmer interrupted Chaos. From this minuscule ember, burned the passions of the unimagined eons— And soon, from the loins of this primeval night, time blossomed, unfolding across the reaches of the chasm. With time, all that is known by man and all that he does not know, reached the precipice of being— And here, the fires of millenia forged the lustrous aether, under the brown fog of the first dawn. The dusts of time and matter tumbled forth, as the tumultuous waves of yet unborn seas— And at last, from the nebulous storm, light emanated, more luminously, than from the most massive stars. With the birth of light, came the first sound— A sigh, like Jovian thunder, that roared across the cosmos. I am told, that the sound can still be, heard by a practiced ear. It is the voice of god, speaking of all that shall ever be. In the desert, I first heard this story. It was night, and I watched flames leaping from a fire-pit, as I listened. |
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2. | Pawns and Trivial Affairs | 04:56 | Show lyrics |
The moment is evasive. They say to listen,not for the sound, but its absence. I have pondered this for some time. My movie starts in five... These are the salt-dusted pianese of gloomy, listless days, and I am payed to watch them. They bloom explosively, and they occupy my consciousness, like tense apprehensions. How are you... I think I’ll have... It is not a silent bloom, like the weary opening of the pink eyelids of spring lilacs... It is a violent, effusive birth, livened with the chatter of ten-thousand bantam galaxies, unfolding. It is the ossifragant crackle of a glorious metamorphosis— A turning inside-out. A large butter, diet soda... Before my humble eyes... A universe erupts into being— Each constituent part, raining like asteroids, falling to its place among the multitude. Is the popcorn burned? Why is there so much smoke? I don’t know, it does that sometimes. Heat and pressure, that’s all it is. |
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3. | The Rat Sermon | 12:49 | Show lyrics |
Once, the light bulb burst in the popcorn machine. It blazed like lightening for an instant, and then in burned out. The old projectionist— (He has so many stories about the way cinemas used to be.) He told me where I could find a light bulb, in a powdery, plaster storeroom. It was deep within the theater’s gut. I needed a key. When I got to the storeroom, I pursued its messy shelves. They were filled with forgotten objects, rust-crusted hammers, fuses of various dimensions, signs I had never seen before, and a multiplicity of silver, moon-like bulbs in ancient, water-marked boxes. Entropy had taken hold of our provisions. It was madness... On the bottom shelf, in a dusty corner of the room, I discovered a large, glass mason jar, containing a mummified rat. I was compelled to examine its gruesome remains. The rat’s eyes were like dim pearls, and its mouth was held rigidly agape, as though time had preserved the moment, of its final breath. Its carcass was emaciated, like a weeping corpus, over a purple congregation. Soon, the rat’s struggle had dawned on me. Its pernicious fate had been starvation. How long had it been trapped? How ghastly! To view freedom, like this wretched creature, from the bindings of mortal captivity. Had it struggled? Perhaps... Perhaps, it had clawed frantically at the walls of the jar. Perhaps, it had squealed to an indifferent silence. Pleading for its amnesty, to the stillness of this place. With or without struggle, at a certain point, fatigued, famished, and discouraged, the rat laid upon its side, and waited, for the mercy of a failing heart. This is all I knew of its death. |
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4. | Life by Projection | 04:24 | Show lyrics |
I stand atop this glistening, byzantine spire, the eye of my kingdom, so that I may remember something, lost to the crumbling ages. From this eagle’s perch, I survey my cities, from the glowing, pallid marble of their Eastern walls, to the Western sands, carried by the steady breath of the sea. My eminence is affirmed, by the drumming of the legion’s march, by the laurels at their rest, upon my brow. And should the proud patricians stay their ardent daggers— Bury them in hearty hams, instead, I may reign, like god, forever... but I have suspended disbelief, from the jagged fishing-hooks of fantasy. I am Emperor on the screen, or in the depths of grandiose reflections. I am the equity of quotidian days, frittered in the back row, below the rhythmic flicker of a mechanized projection... And when the centurions are on their march, through convoluted Roman streets and alleyways, they flip golden coins, that bear upon their face, the glory of my handsome Roman features— but only as I doze to sleep. |
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5. | What the Thunder Said | 04:19 | Show lyrics |
When I leave the theater (I can only hope soon), the day has blazed away, yielding to an eerily deadened night. There are no cars around the suburbs, and the streetlights blink a single, fuzzy color. At that hour, it’s often very cold. Too cold to smoke one more cigarette after work, by the dumpster. What insignificance! When the stars are out, they follow me to the car— The entire galaxy is behind me... How could I justify my clawing, in the midst of the grand, flickering ancients— And my unheard squeaking! Still, the night is newly born (if I ignore the straining of my sleepy, blushing eyes). And indeed, there is time then, to interrupt your typing, with wild schemes, or smoky, cold-footed evenings on my porch. I will recite my stories— And you have heard them all, Dear. You will still laugh, and you will tease me, in a language I do not know. Your words will be like an aria, a Devi’s song— so sweet to me, so smooth in her tones and music— But of course, I still do not comprehend their meaning... Sing me Habenera, in your devil speak tonight! A year of dark affairs. My insignificance... I watched you sprout, from the empty soil of my grim garden, counted the hours at your side, beneath heavy winter precipitation. How? I can not fathom this fate— Your quiet arrival to my home last winter, like a cat entering a cracked doorway. How could you ever know, what lies beneath my hypnotized gaze— what frantic, grateful fervor, for I am not alone! I know you from the ages! Ursa Minor, I suppose, still wanders the heart of paradise— its deepest forests, where life is rich. I have heard, the cosmic thunder speaking, From the acidic fringes of the dusk, When psychedelic highs are peaking Over half-full cans and pizza crusts— But let us go now, it’s time. The theater’s closed, let us go now, Dear... through uncertain, half-deserted streets. Shantih. Shantih. Shantih. |
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33:52 |
Cicada the Burrower / Mountains of Light
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Cicada the Burrower | |
Alexander Monday | Lyrics |
Cameron Davis | All instruments, Vocals |
Guest/Session | |
Nick Bartley | Drums |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Sawyer Hildebrandt | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Cicada the Burrower - Awake | 04:20 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Cicada the Burrower - Streetlights Bleed Through | 05:25 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
3. | Mountains of Light - The Mercurial Sea | 06:22 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
4. | Mountains of Light - Stone Giants | 03:21 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
19:28 |
The Great Nothing
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
October 10th, 2017 | Blue Bedroom Records | Digital | Bandcamp | |
October 10th, 2017 | Blue Bedroom Records | BBR-012 | CD | Limited edition |
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Cameron Davis | All instruments, Vocals |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Sawyer Hildebrandt | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Every Color Imaginable | 04:25 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Incidental | 04:58 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
3. | I Lived in an Empty Body | 03:42 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
4. | Walls, Bent and Broken | 03:18 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
5. | The Great Nothing | 05:11 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
6. | Nihilism Fuck Wave | 05:16 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
7. | Please Stop | 05:00 | Show lyrics |
I will never stop. | |||
31:50 |
Despoina
Members | |
---|---|
Alexander Monday | Lyrics |
Cameron Davis | All instruments, Vocals |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | We Drifted | 00:58 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Only the Elms Remember | 03:54 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
3. | Down the Coast | 02:27 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
4. | Simple Insect Heart | 04:19 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
5. | Ghost | 05:06 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
6. | He Dreamt of Words | 03:38 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
7. | In Shapeless Repose | 02:43 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
8. | Weep for the Dead | 03:47 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
9. | Plague Bringer | 04:38 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
31:30 |
Despoina
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Alexander Monday | Lyrics |
Cameron Davis | All instruments, Vocals |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | We Drift | 00:56 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Only the Elms Remember | 03:57 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
3. | Down the Coast | 02:26 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
4. | Simple Insect Heart | 04:21 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
5. | Ghost | 05:09 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
6. | He Dreamt of Words | 03:39 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
7. | In Shapeless Repose | 02:44 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
8. | Weep for the Dead | 03:52 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
9. | Plague Bringer | 04:42 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
31:46 |
Despoina
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Alexander Monday | Lyrics |
Cameron Davis | All instruments, Vocals |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | We Drift | 00:56 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Only the Elms Remember | 03:57 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
3. | Down the Coast | 02:26 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
4. | Simple Insect Heart | 04:21 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
5. | Ghost | 05:09 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
6. | He Dreamt of Words | 03:39 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
7. | In Shapeless Repose | 02:44 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
8. | Weep for the Dead | 03:52 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
9. | Plague Bringer | 04:42 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
31:46 |
The Oasis
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Alexander Monday | Lyrics |
Cameron Davis | All instruments, Vocals |
Guest/Session | |
Keegan Waggett | Vocals (additional) (track 2) |
Nick Bartley | Drums (additional) (tracks 4, 5) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Sawyer Hildebrandt | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | The Birth of the Living | 07:24 | Show lyrics |
There was once an emptiness, that bore from the limitless darkness of its womb, all that would ever be. For a moment, for an eternity, A solitary glimmer interrupted Chaos. From this minuscule ember, burned the passions of the unimagined eons— And soon, from the loins of this primeval night, time blossomed, unfolding across the reaches of the chasm. With time, all that is known by man and all that he does not know, reached the precipice of being— And here, the fires of millenia forged the lustrous aether, under the brown fog of the first dawn. The dusts of time and matter tumbled forth, as the tumultuous waves of yet unborn seas— And at last, from the nebulous storm, light emanated, more luminously, than from the most massive stars. With the birth of light, came the first sound— A sigh, like Jovian thunder, that roared across the cosmos. I am told, that the sound can still be, heard by a practiced ear. It is the voice of god, speaking of all that shall ever be. In the desert, I first heard this story. It was night, and I watched flames leaping from a fire-pit, as I listened. |
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2. | Pawns and Trivial Affairs | 04:56 | Show lyrics |
The moment is evasive. They say to listen,not for the sound, but its absence. I have pondered this for some time. My movie starts in five... These are the salt-dusted pianese of gloomy, listless days, and I am payed to watch them. They bloom explosively, and they occupy my consciousness, like tense apprehensions. How are you... I think I’ll have... It is not a silent bloom, like the weary opening of the pink eyelids of spring lilacs... It is a violent, effusive birth, livened with the chatter of ten-thousand bantam galaxies, unfolding. It is the ossifragant crackle of a glorious metamorphosis— A turning inside-out. A large butter, diet soda... Before my humble eyes... A universe erupts into being— Each constituent part, raining like asteroids, falling to its place among the multitude. Is the popcorn burned? Why is there so much smoke? I don’t know, it does that sometimes. Heat and pressure, that’s all it is. |
|||
3. | The Rat Sermon | 12:49 | Show lyrics |
Once, the light bulb burst in the popcorn machine. It blazed like lightening for an instant, and then in burned out. The old projectionist— (He has so many stories about the way cinemas used to be.) He told me where I could find a light bulb, in a powdery, plaster storeroom. It was deep within the theater’s gut. I needed a key. When I got to the storeroom, I pursued its messy shelves. They were filled with forgotten objects, rust-crusted hammers, fuses of various dimensions, signs I had never seen before, and a multiplicity of silver, moon-like bulbs in ancient, water-marked boxes. Entropy had taken hold of our provisions. It was madness... On the bottom shelf, in a dusty corner of the room, I discovered a large, glass mason jar, containing a mummified rat. I was compelled to examine its gruesome remains. The rat’s eyes were like dim pearls, and its mouth was held rigidly agape, as though time had preserved the moment, of its final breath. Its carcass was emaciated, like a weeping corpus, over a purple congregation. Soon, the rat’s struggle had dawned on me. Its pernicious fate had been starvation. How long had it been trapped? How ghastly! To view freedom, like this wretched creature, from the bindings of mortal captivity. Had it struggled? Perhaps... Perhaps, it had clawed frantically at the walls of the jar. Perhaps, it had squealed to an indifferent silence. Pleading for its amnesty, to the stillness of this place. With or without struggle, at a certain point, fatigued, famished, and discouraged, the rat laid upon its side, and waited, for the mercy of a failing heart. This is all I knew of its death. |
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4. | Life by Projection | 04:24 | Show lyrics |
I stand atop this glistening, byzantine spire, the eye of my kingdom, so that I may remember something, lost to the crumbling ages. From this eagle’s perch, I survey my cities, from the glowing, pallid marble of their Eastern walls, to the Western sands, carried by the steady breath of the sea. My eminence is affirmed, by the drumming of the legion’s march, by the laurels at their rest, upon my brow. And should the proud patricians stay their ardent daggers— Bury them in hearty hams, instead, I may reign, like god, forever... but I have suspended disbelief, from the jagged fishing-hooks of fantasy. I am Emperor on the screen, or in the depths of grandiose reflections. I am the equity of quotidian days, frittered in the back row, below the rhythmic flicker of a mechanized projection... And when the centurions are on their march, through convoluted Roman streets and alleyways, they flip golden coins, that bear upon their face, the glory of my handsome Roman features— but only as I doze to sleep. |
|||
5. | What the Thunder Said | 04:19 | Show lyrics |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
33:52 |
The Oasis
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Alexander Monday | Lyrics |
Cameron Davis | All instruments, Vocals |
Guest/Session | |
Keegan Waggett | Vocals (additional) (track 2) |
Nick Bartley | Drums (additional) (tracks 4, 5) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Sawyer Hildebrandt | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | The Birth of the Living | 07:24 | Show lyrics |
There was once an emptiness, that bore from the limitless darkness of its womb, all that would ever be. For a moment, for an eternity, A solitary glimmer interrupted Chaos. From this minuscule ember, burned the passions of the unimagined eons— And soon, from the loins of this primeval night, time blossomed, unfolding across the reaches of the chasm. With time, all that is known by man and all that he does not know, reached the precipice of being— And here, the fires of millenia forged the lustrous aether, under the brown fog of the first dawn. The dusts of time and matter tumbled forth, as the tumultuous waves of yet unborn seas— And at last, from the nebulous storm, light emanated, more luminously, than from the most massive stars. With the birth of light, came the first sound— A sigh, like Jovian thunder, that roared across the cosmos. I am told, that the sound can still be, heard by a practiced ear. It is the voice of god, speaking of all that shall ever be. In the desert, I first heard this story. It was night, and I watched flames leaping from a fire-pit, as I listened. |
|||
2. | Pawns and Trivial Affairs | 04:56 | Show lyrics |
The moment is evasive. They say to listen,not for the sound, but its absence. I have pondered this for some time. My movie starts in five... These are the salt-dusted pianese of gloomy, listless days, and I am payed to watch them. They bloom explosively, and they occupy my consciousness, like tense apprehensions. How are you... I think I’ll have... It is not a silent bloom, like the weary opening of the pink eyelids of spring lilacs... It is a violent, effusive birth, livened with the chatter of ten-thousand bantam galaxies, unfolding. It is the ossifragant crackle of a glorious metamorphosis— A turning inside-out. A large butter, diet soda... Before my humble eyes... A universe erupts into being— Each constituent part, raining like asteroids, falling to its place among the multitude. Is the popcorn burned? Why is there so much smoke? I don’t know, it does that sometimes. Heat and pressure, that’s all it is. |
|||
3. | The Rat Sermon | 12:49 | Show lyrics |
Once, the light bulb burst in the popcorn machine. It blazed like lightening for an instant, and then in burned out. The old projectionist— (He has so many stories about the way cinemas used to be.) He told me where I could find a light bulb, in a powdery, plaster storeroom. It was deep within the theater’s gut. I needed a key. When I got to the storeroom, I pursued its messy shelves. They were filled with forgotten objects, rust-crusted hammers, fuses of various dimensions, signs I had never seen before, and a multiplicity of silver, moon-like bulbs in ancient, water-marked boxes. Entropy had taken hold of our provisions. It was madness... On the bottom shelf, in a dusty corner of the room, I discovered a large, glass mason jar, containing a mummified rat. I was compelled to examine its gruesome remains. The rat’s eyes were like dim pearls, and its mouth was held rigidly agape, as though time had preserved the moment, of its final breath. Its carcass was emaciated, like a weeping corpus, over a purple congregation. Soon, the rat’s struggle had dawned on me. Its pernicious fate had been starvation. How long had it been trapped? How ghastly! To view freedom, like this wretched creature, from the bindings of mortal captivity. Had it struggled? Perhaps... Perhaps, it had clawed frantically at the walls of the jar. Perhaps, it had squealed to an indifferent silence. Pleading for its amnesty, to the stillness of this place. With or without struggle, at a certain point, fatigued, famished, and discouraged, the rat laid upon its side, and waited, for the mercy of a failing heart. This is all I knew of its death. |
|||
4. | Life by Projection | 04:24 | Show lyrics |
I stand atop this glistening, byzantine spire, the eye of my kingdom, so that I may remember something, lost to the crumbling ages. From this eagle’s perch, I survey my cities, from the glowing, pallid marble of their Eastern walls, to the Western sands, carried by the steady breath of the sea. My eminence is affirmed, by the drumming of the legion’s march, by the laurels at their rest, upon my brow. And should the proud patricians stay their ardent daggers— Bury them in hearty hams, instead, I may reign, like god, forever... but I have suspended disbelief, from the jagged fishing-hooks of fantasy. I am Emperor on the screen, or in the depths of grandiose reflections. I am the equity of quotidian days, frittered in the back row, below the rhythmic flicker of a mechanized projection... And when the centurions are on their march, through convoluted Roman streets and alleyways, they flip golden coins, that bear upon their face, the glory of my handsome Roman features— but only as I doze to sleep. |
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5. | What the Thunder Said | 04:19 | Show lyrics |
When I leave the theater (I can only hope soon), the day has blazed away, yielding to an eerily deadened night. There are no cars around the suburbs, and the streetlights blink a single, fuzzy color. At that hour, it’s often very cold. Too cold to smoke one more cigarette after work, by the dumpster. What insignificance! When the stars are out, they follow me to the car— The entire galaxy is behind me... How could I justify my clawing, in the midst of the grand, flickering ancients— And my unheard squeaking! Still, the night is newly born (if I ignore the straining of my sleepy, blushing eyes). And indeed, there is time then, to interrupt your typing, with wild schemes, or smoky, cold-footed evenings on my porch. I will recite my stories— And you have heard them all, Dear. You will still laugh, and you will tease me, in a language I do not know. Your words will be like an aria, a Devi’s song— so sweet to me, so smooth in her tones and music— But of course, I still do not comprehend their meaning... Sing me Habenera, in your devil speak tonight! A year of dark affairs. My insignificance... I watched you sprout, from the empty soil of my grim garden, counted the hours at your side, beneath heavy winter precipitation. How? I can not fathom this fate— Your quiet arrival to my home last winter, like a cat entering a cracked doorway. How could you ever know, what lies beneath my hypnotized gaze— what frantic, grateful fervor, for I am not alone! I know you from the ages! Ursa Minor, I suppose, still wanders the heart of paradise— its deepest forests, where life is rich. I have heard, the cosmic thunder speaking, From the acidic fringes of the dusk, When psychedelic highs are peaking Over half-full cans and pizza crusts— But let us go now, it’s time. The theater’s closed, let us go now, Dear... through uncertain, half-deserted streets. Shantih. Shantih. Shantih. |
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33:52 |
The Great Nothing
Members | |
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Band members | |
Cameron Davis | All instruments, Vocals |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Sawyer Hildebrandt | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
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1. | Every Color Imaginable | 04:25 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Incidental | 04:58 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
3. | I Lived in an Empty Body | 03:42 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
4. | Walls, Bent and Broken | 03:18 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
5. | The Great Nothing | 05:11 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
6. | Nihilism Fuck Wave | 05:16 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
7. | Please Stop | 05:00 | Show lyrics |
I will never stop. | |||
31:50 |
The Great Nothing
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Cameron Davis | All instruments, Vocals |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Sawyer Hildebrandt | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Every Color Imaginable | 04:25 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Incidental | 04:58 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
3. | I Lived in an Empty Body | 03:42 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
4. | Walls, Bent and Broken | 03:18 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
5. | The Great Nothing | 05:11 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
6. | Nihilism Fuck Wave | 05:16 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
7. | Please Stop | 05:00 | Show lyrics |
I will never stop. | |||
31:50 |
Band ascii art
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