1. |
The Mathematics
04:43
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Your fake falsetto tones brought my energy up to your bones. Points plotted to depart, crossed as any star, so fixed, so far. I'm assaulted by autumn lights, gone to seed and pasture each night. A single engine descends. A needle at a record's end, so dear, so spent. All we didn't know when the shutter snapped, how we didn't even brace for the impact. Certain whispers that will never echo back. You are not forgiven. We are not forgiven.
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2. |
Brighter Territories
03:32
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The deserted intersection, gutted out and unappraised. Fuses blown, the signals scrambled. All was dark and out of phase. Here's a holy concentration. Feel it pulsing through the walls. We cup our hands with illumination. All are synced. All are enthralled. Sometimes a body wants to recede. Succumb to atrophy. They're gaining on us, these grotesqueries. It's so hard to believe that we can outrun them. In the brighter territories, where we dance so cavalier, vistas will unfold before us. Yes, the world will meet us here. It makes a body want to proceed, to get up off its knees. Still, we choose to believe that we can outrun them. It makes a body start to believe. The blood flows ceaselessly. Spit and stimuli are all we need. Oh, can't you see? We will outrun them.
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3. |
Northways/The Fade
06:50
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Grim sky and a blood-red rye, we push off from Northways town, off into a surly sea as a storm cracks down. Supposed to fetch a lover home, sailing unskilled over the foam, rain-blind, freezing, free-floating and torn at the sides, pleading with the merciless tide. Don't let the sea in. We came up fierce as fire, mounting the sky, unbroken and beckoning, gloriously high. We listened to our blood, the insistent sound it made, before the ruinous fade. It's the beauty that eats us alive.
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4. |
Ransack The Palace
04:10
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We've been waiting, thumbing through slick pages, cut off and uncaressed, spectating here outside the ropes, necks snapping at the stress. Hear us baying, sweating rivulets. Yeah, we love the way you lean. See us circle, paw the earth, swat the flies, so slow and so unclean. This monotonous pulse beats in our eyes. We've been roasted down to the bone, choking through a blacked-out season. But tonight we take the throne. Cause we know how your tables overflow, opulent and undulating so. So let us in the show.
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5. |
Palpitations
04:32
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Wolves' town, eyes down, wired for sound. All these neophytes normalize the lights, swerving into sight. Bright aisles, bins and piles, succor for miles. Intercepted, uncorrected, you get away with it. Palpitations through the blood that you choose, and up in the flies, a curtain off-cue, so eager to fall and claim you. Cause there's a poison in your veins, rushing sick and blue, salt and sugar, the cursed residue. It takes the loudest of love to cut through. Fight's gone. Score's drawn, zero to one. Skip the hollow vows. Rat yourself out, for to speed the plow. Getting away with what you can't get away with.
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6. |
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John was always in the middle of things, catching air to say, “hey, I'll race you. Set some gear aside. And, hey, I'll save you a space to rest our wheels and face sixteen together.” Tyler was right in the middle of things, like a lonely Saturday. But, hey, some friends called. They set a seat aside and, hey, after all, maybe the road will rise. The engine's turning over. So we get caught in the middle of things. We rip and roll and maybe don't sense these red lights. The traffic grinds. We maybe don't feel that incline, but rest assured until the boys come cross us over.
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GNØER Raleigh, North Carolina
Three electronic musicians in Raleigh, North Carolina.
GNØER recommends:
Spicy. Jumpy. Hooky.
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Hey Mami / Play It Right
by Sylvan Esso
Expansive. Warm. Beautiful.
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Phantasm in Tutu
by Heads on Sticks
Dense. Hypnotic. Tasty.
go to albumIf you like GNØER, you may also like:
Reaves EP
by The Monologue Bombs
supported by 4 fans who also own “Precepts 13-18”
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Orchard EP
by The Monologue Bombs
supported by 4 fans who also own “Precepts 13-18”
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Stern, stiff-limbed and cyberpunky, the latest from ph4nt re-imagines Gary Numan as a 21st Century anarchist.
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