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released May 5, 2013

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Sonic Anhedonic Recording Company Brighton, UK

SARC is a Brighton-based label / collective.

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Track Name: The Lunchtime Sardine Club - Rumours
I heard a rumour you never get old
I saw a summer dissolve into cold
I licked a knife and it cut my tongue
Flesh became blade then the three became one

Jesus on a jet plane
He flies before he walks
A tourist and a dead man
One thousand years apart
If youthfulness is over
And time is all you got
Living as a lighthouse
And seabirds at your arms

30ft of schooner and a sound for sound's sake
Hazel mud, an empty house but no ears to take hold
I licked a knife and cut your throat from your tongue
Beak became blade then the three became one
Track Name: Love Among The Mannequins - Joseph Cassel or John Michael Ernahue or God, D-16
Joseph Cassel or John Michael Ernahue or God, D-16.


I swept past Saint Francis in clouds of brass on Lao Tzu’s shin. I sang to Plato’s pen a petrified black requiem. I seeded a poet’s kiss to Nietzsche’s mewling syphilis. The mirror is a misericorde. Scratch a Joseph and you'll find a Jospehine. Scratch a testicle and you'll find an ovary. Invert him if you can:

your peeling Schmerzensmann. Q: “Who wrote Woyzeck?” A: “Buchner!” No, no, no! He stole it from God! Thermodynamics is a thief's safe. The trompe l'oile of a time-grave. They’re all its nom de plumes; they’re its inter-fucking dopplegangers. Q: “And Madame Bovary?” A: “Flaubert!” No, no, no! He stole it from God! Peeled open Eden with a sweet tooth to core the apple of the mot juste. But mot justes are membranes; the corneas of my paper eyeballs. Q: “And The Ego and the Id?” A: “Freud!” No, no, no! He stole it from God! Who created all the sulkers? Detuned the static in the sulcus? Their choice is my voice; this institution is a ring of heaven. My true mouth has a billion teeth. I'm a rainbow in a human sheath. I'm twelve miles of missed smiles. I'm the shadow cast behind your shadow. So I understand when I'm not there you think you don't miss me and you think you don't care. But drunk, alone, in a half-empty house,

I move the furniture when you fall over. One day, you’ll know. “Ecce homo.” In dreams you’ll crow “Ecce Homo”.
Track Name: Chalk - Next To Useless
What's with this blank expression?
Can't find the words to change it
My mood and mind is feeling lost
Losing the will to try again
Sitting up to sit back down
I can't get used to this sense of uselessness
Pulling every fibre out
Trying to pin down
My only use is
Useless
You said “I’ll wait til' you’re better”
But I have no intention to wait for you
You sleep while I am frightened
Where is my life going to?
I’m told that “this will all work out” and “stop pretending love is lost”
If smiles were half as easy as lies I’d brighten up your day
And I’m hoping this all works out
Because I’m slipping through you
You’re gripping to me
And I’m content with being like that
Because you’re changing faces
In different places
Stop with these questions
You’re no exception to the rule
But you can see a human being in me
Track Name: Silent Front - 593
What did I say
What did I speak
Which flag did I raise, for you to burn down

You take pride
Names are dropped wide
A loyalty in speech
Never does quite reach

Picked up, put down
When choice is received,
of higher game, among unpleasant trees
Now I sit here on shelf 593
Ridged and burnt
On broken knees
Track Name: Vincent Vocoder Voice - The Unbearable Heaviness of Having
The train came in sideways
The plane fell down
Jerk awake from the wreckage in the hotel lounge
Pat out the fires and call the waiter for a cancerous cheque
A little sweet malignancy to sour my breath
I've started laying off my minerals one by one
My particles are packing up their confessions
Because we’re far too long dying
Far too long spent
In doomed negotiations with the firmament

Is this it? Are we just ... ?

But there’s no shivers in livers
No groans in bones
No shock wave windows beautifying our homes
There’s no gunshots
No enemies
Bomb-shelter ends
I’ll sit flicking through my iPhone 'til I choke on my friends
I’ll welcome every single freckle
I’ll bless you to bloom
Help yourself to my lymphocytes and memories too
I hope no maker’s waiting glancing at the clock in his seat
Cos'
I’m sick of queuing up and kicking my feet

Sucking in fibre
Blowing out shit

So suffer little children
See if I care
Suck a Samaritans' receiver if you don’t think it’s fair
There was a God in a moral but the chrysalis split
And the towns filled up with nothing
Now we’re drowning in it
The flapping mouths like meatuses promising seed
To reincarnate me to whoever I please
If I only look snappy and thumb out the notes
I’d rather place bets with my sweetheart over who will turn first
To a ghost

Sucking in fibre
Blowing out shit

The train came in sideways
The plane fell down
Jerk awake from the wreckage in the hotel lounge
Pat out the fires and call the waiter for a cancerous cheque
A little sweet malignancy to sour my breath
I've started laying off my minerals one by one
My particles are packing up their confessions
Because we're far too long driving
The nails through our wrists
Is that all there is?
Is that it? Is that it?

Are we just sucking in fibre
Blowing out shit?
Is that all there is?
Is that it? Is that it?
Is that it?
Track Name: Bermuda Ern - That Ain't Right
Alone at last but I'm a ghost when I'm with you
I glow, I walk through walls and float around the room
You won't believe your eyes, but it's always this way
I'm in over my head, so it's probably best if you walk away

To keep you all to myself, that ain't right.

You're a weight on my halo
I wanna sniff in the air as something to be proud of
And that weight brings out the pack-rat in me
Cos I've got seventy-eight organs but I want eighty-three
I'm my brothers keeper
I keep her away from her hope-chest
Cos I wouldn't build her up before slinging her down

To keep you all to myself, that ain't right.
Track Name: Crooked Mountain, Crooked Sea - Faults
I thought I was suppose to be a man by now
but I still don't know who I am
The advice that they give is getting difficult
because they're telling me it's my fault
I'm trying to think but i can't conserve
My energy and anger ain't getting what they deserve

Looking back on my life and I'm loosing worth
Shouting all of my lines so they can't be heard
All your mistakes I can't forgive
But all of mine you'll have to live with

I thought i was suppose to know everything by now
But I still don't know who I am
I thought all I'd need is for my family to be proud
But I'm keeping all of them out

Looking back on my life and I'm loosing worth
Shouting all of my lines so they can't be heard
All your mistakes I can't forgive
But all of mine you'll have to live with

You'll have to hear all my ideas
I'll have to hear all my faults
In faults
Faults
Track Name: CACHE - COAX
In years to come when love-sick teens are writing this shit down
This generic, formulaic fuzz will have burned out
Don't forget it's in your head or there'll be hell to pay
I'll put the boot in, to keep them guessing
And I keep telling you get to the point
I'm young and old
I'm bought and sold
I've never been so happy
It's been a long time coming, but I'm next in line
In years to come when love-sick teens are writing this shit down
I'll put the boot in, to keep them guessing
I'm young and old
I'm bought and sold
I've never been so happy
Track Name: The Robot Vs. - The City Gent Conspiracy
Everyone that I touch seems to fall apart
And this rusted skeletal mess is prone
To false starts
Go go automaton
Programmed to fall over when drunk
Drink dance
Repeat
Drink dance
Developing a habit of tearing out my hair
Developing a habit of lashing out at walls
And this guy sat me down
Said
Self pity is for fools and emo kidz
This method is proven to make you 47% happier
And watch out because liberals have cut loose
Changing the world with forum posts
You have to superimpose what you want over what you see
City gent conspiracy
These people have forked tongues
My nose is pressed up to the window
But I'm not like these beautiful people
With their effortless success
I bought all my ethics from a record shop
An off-cut in
An off-cut of
A satellite town
You're superimposed