Get all 11 Yardsss releases available on Bandcamp and save 10%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of ØØØ | Wampeters, Foma and Granfalloons, ØØØ | Exitus, ∅∀‡ | Jingle Bellsss, ∅∀‡ | Cultus, ØØØ | Epithets, ∅∀‡ | SGL008 Live at Doug Fir, ∅∀‡ | SGL006 Live at Black Water, ØØØ | Quietus, and 3 more.
1. |
As Lake Itasca Spills
06:03
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36 years in, 36 days in a half year bedridden with three tons of weighted immaterial creationist negative thought pressing this physical form into the mattress deep, holding, tied to the tracks, a damsel in distress, wishing for the ceiling to come crashing crushingly down, thrusting me back, into the void.
Unavoidable anxiety riddled facial tics, visible, obvious, embarrassing. All failed attempts at suppression leading only to a greater impact. Floating singly through this conscious awareness in a near perpetual state of existential crisis, never truly believing this isn’t merely dreamscape, figment amalgams of one another’s programming, swimming in the open air all data and code, binding non-binary.
This programming flawed, bowing, bending, praying under a giant ash, connected and rooted with the mother. She repeats, you may never be abandoned for you are always walking upon me, connected, I am the world. Father sun scolds with burning flesh as a reminder of his ever-present touch.
But this brief and fleeting felt-sense of connectivity, a moment slipping from clutched crooked fingers, returning to the maze of human socialization, flash and awe; destitute, diminished, defeated, forever in search of the origin source of these ever-mingling tributaries carving crooked lines ever southbound in a mapless vision.
Manic
Depression
Obsessive
Compulsion
Tourette’s
Anxiety
Bipolar
Empathy
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2. |
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If you
Find Me
Let Me
Know
Existential
Pilot
Vessel
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3. |
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When I close my eyes
I could be anywhere
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4. |
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I write suicide notes to pass the time in multiples of three and burn them in effigy of the past selves I've lost. Setting intentions for the latest incarnations like the petals of pink carnations spread over a grandmother's grave as autumn leaves blanket her headstone and a cold rain mixes with the salted saline of tears.
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5. |
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6. |
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There are things you should learn. Your past is a skeleton walking one step behind you, and your future is a skeleton walking one step in front of you.
Maybe you don’t wear a watch, but your skeletons do, and they always know what time it is. Now, these skeletons are made of memories, dreams, and voices. And they can trap you in the in-between, between touching and becoming. But they’re not necessarily evil, unless you let them be.
What you have to do is keep moving, keep walking, in step with your skeletons. They're never going to leave you, so you don’t have to worry about that. Your past isn’t going to fall behind, and your future won’t get too far ahead. Sometimes, though, your skeletons will talk to you, tell you to sit down and take a rest, breathe a little. Maybe they’ll make you promises, tell you all the things you want to hear.
Sometimes your skeletons will dress up as beautiful women and ask you to slow dance. Sometimes your skeletons will dress up as your best friend and offer you a drink, one more for the road. Sometimes your skeletons will look exactly like your parents and offer you gifts.
But, no matter what they do, keep walking, keep moving. And don’t wear a watch because your skeletons will always remind you about the time. It is always now. The past, the present, the future, all of it is wrapped up in the now. That’s how it is. We are trapped in the now.
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7. |
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Sweet shade have you no reprieve
Be this thine penance
Illuminating
Nothing
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8. |
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Whisper me the sweetest lie
Use these weaponized words
Incarcerating hearts in waiting
In longing for the next sentimental trap
Beauty is beautiful when it’s real
Crushingly defeatist when deceptive
Whisper me the sweetest lie love
Make it indistinguishable from truth
Dismiss honesty for the sake of the moment
Take broad strokes at grandiose visions
Build me up, make me a believer
Then gently lay me back down
Tuck me tightly into this hospital gown
And whisper me back into the void with the sweetest lie
Echoing, disconnecting, disappeared
Make me believe
One last time
One last deep breath
Lie to me
Eyes closing sealed
Lie to myself
Exhale slowly as I may
Fading failing facade
Pretending to believe
In bliss
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9. |
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Heart
Breaks
So Easily
Now
Now
Now
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Yardsss Portland, Oregon
Post-Art, Musicology
ØØØ = Krist Krueger
∅∀‡ = full band
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