 anti-matter poetry (2010) |
the
wasted lands hairdressers symphony phantom pain scars i saved the world the rear view mirror suite anti-matter poetry (for samples click here) |
| music and lyrics by t all voices and instruments performed by t mixed by t engineered, recorded and produced by t at black box studios mastered by jürgen lusky at hofa studios artwork by t and katia tangian photography by katia tangian thank you to dominik, katia, shawn gordon |
"Every artist is a cannibal
Every poet is a thief They all kill their inspiration Then sing about the grief" (Bono) "Art is a bitch, and so is literature - and music. they always present us
worlds well out of reach - pipedream kingdoms of epic journeys,
heroism, boundless yearning and lots of all the things we are, well,
let's face it, not.
Art is, insofar, simply destructive for your everyday middle class John Doe. It makes him long for things he neither really wants or needs: danger, uncertainty, lovesickness, bleeding hearts, je ne sais quoi. So, for our private universe, poetry is condensed destruction. It is antimatter. This album deals with the clichees that we retreat to when we celebrate unrest. When we crave for craving. When we swap the sun for a black hole. When we die a little to feel our lives again. This album is furious about the stupidity behind this. It is also helpless in avoiding it. It is a one-way street monologue. It is anti-matter poetry." |
| lyrics (2007-2010) Ablaze with second thoughts Penultimate goodbyes And unfranked marriage vows Your hemlock kiss of life In the cold, cold life of day Did I really think you’d stay? Your vertigo smiles Of skyscraping blindness The wasteland in your eyes The emptiness at night In the cold, cold life of day Was there ever hope you’d stay? Analphabet memories In vitro fertilized Masked by the stupor of day A heartbeat in black and white A life in the rain A stain on the scenery And a hole in your stare But you hold on No matter what they say You hold on ‘Cause you know it ain’t better this way The suicides you gather Dandelions in your spring You will not be home tonight The next swansong to sing But oh my love There is dust on your lies But oh my love Find your looks itemized tonight Hairdressers Symphony So I bite my lip and smile Gnaw into your veins You burn my eyes Like falling angels We’re the pent-up stench Of biblical remains We’re the blood that never dried In the shadows there’s the echo of our smiles In the alleyways the perfumes of our fights Flat-rate neighbours on our way to paradise Threadbare souls and stolen rites Slaughtering saviours for a glimpse of tits and sighs We’re the wolves in wolves’ disguise And there she goes Seventeen and ripe Her flesh the acid in my veins She’s the itch that I could scratch But never want to The secret spring I crave to taint The holy antidote I drown inside my veins In the shadows we are sharpening our lives In the alleyways our pheremones reside Slake our boredom on our way to paradise Charcoal epigones of light Crossed-out questions in the corner of a mind Scorching bloodstains on a thigh Changing your hairstyle and walking on air Making you feel like he just isn’t there Roaming the shoplights A moth in my dark The ghost of a dream and a phantom pain scar Dancing in circles Rain in your hair Enjoy your new face and the boyfriend you wear Pretend that you care (And there’s this new café On the other side of Mimi’s Well, baby that’s so swell And this new dress they have I will have it or go to hell) In-crowd, love me DJ, drug me Stains on your collar His fist pains your cheek Your sunglasses hide what our eyes shouldn’t seek Hope in a whiskey glass Bleeding-heart clown It’s not the world, it’s just you going down (Did you notice their frown? That’s you going down) Phantom Pain Scars Chasing the cracks Of life’s built-in chains And phantom pain scars Endothermic fears The healing sound of the world in your hands A croak and a kiss Like the angels that fall from the top of your lips The sundown reflects on your outside Horizons askew in your eyes Heaven can wait It’s the end of the past Heaven can wait For you A moment of peace from the storm Reliving the lies that you sold Heaven can wait For the sun to go down Heaven can wait For you to come home Feel the breeze of the night (Ease the pain in your eyes) Feel its song go inside (And erase yinyang tribes) Hear it whisper your life (Through the ghosts in your sight) With it’s arms open wide (In its shadows subside) Pour it’s dark through your hides And the moon lights your fires (The god you admire) In the chaos inside There’s so much to desire (In the girls that you hire) to take you higher Let me tell you a story then Like creaking bones beneath my skin Of agony so deeply muffled And Malone dying Finally dying When I woke up again Like a scar on an undead body There was nothing else to do But go and find Go and find Find Malone dying Of agony so deeply muffled Like creaking bones beneath his skin Let me tell you my story then My story: Just never let her go Never let her go Never So I bite my lip in smiles Aggravating faints The last resort of worn-out curses Your overexposed eyes Jaunice-bitten flames Re-live last chances for the worst You thought you had the answers To rise above the throng You had the questions wrong Redemption lurked among us A saviour of your own You had religions wrong Epidemic population The heroes of distraction A nation of velocity Holding someone else’s breath Sold-out sovereignty transpires anonymity Distinguished triviality in anti-matter poetry gone by You thought you had the answers To rise above the throng You had the questions wrong Enlightened sparks above us The golden rule resolved You had your ethics wrong Hoarded dreams of breathing space To live up to the dreams you hoarded Afterglows of epic fails And funeral pyres of washed-out protest shirt Remind the world of you And all the ghouls you worshipped Do you recognize someone? I Saved The World He grew behind our eyes In the gloom of starless winters We choked on his grip inside We hauled his grin along He’d finally give us power Over all injustice borne From the masses in the gutter From their blunt stupidity And so we drowned sleep And standardized dreams While the years birthed solid anger In the crimson light of day We declared the world a carnage We’d slaughter in his name And his armies striving forward In each heartbeat of our lusts In the smoke that drowned your kisses In the lovesicks’ carnal trust And we came upon the hopeless Like the Azraels of daze While we kept the world our secret With the impact of neglect But I saved the world (Let me tell you a story then Like creaking bones beneath my skin Of idiot maturity And agony so deeply muffled I was never a child) But I saved the world In my radioactive glory Through the trip wires in our hands You became my standard answer You became my long lost friend And we instigated terror To excuse my lazy bores Activated instant traumas A tragic hero’s karma-chores Through the absence of redemption ‘Cause there’d never been a hell Idiot trifles masked by crusted tears To build a comfort cell Camouflaged in dusks and rosebuds From the threats of unspoilt smiles Bludgeoning all hope of salvation Copy, paste, erase, rewind But I saved the world For me And so I killed you Beneath the stars With your breath within my hands I closed your eyes And got to open mine A scatterbrain hibernating And for all this time Reprimanding lives He grew behind my eyes Through starless winter nights A thrombosis in my pride But I saved the world A highbrow scrub A low-fi alibi The colour of your eyes Burnt into mine Bolting down the gates Of relics and decay Reluctant in regret A tear to let But I saved the world For me The Rearview Mirror Suite Locked you here inside my head This room is my tomb of regret You shunned this life To haunt my nights Locked you here inside my head My clothes on your chair I breathe your air I lay my head on your side of the bed I kiss your eyes The shutters tight Close your pores to keep out the dead This is all I got A fallen angel’s wing The high hopes of the past A flower from last spring It’s all that I could save The dead breath from the grave The beauty of your face lost in the crossfire The heartbeat of a ghost Distorted by remorse A symphony of shame I went the way I came The embers of a life Erupting to deny Humdrum corpse refusing to die This is all we’ll get A fairytale to let The whispers on the wind A poetry of hints It’s all that I could save A prayer for replay The echo of the gap lost in the crossfire The creed of the rain And the heartache in laughter The howl of the wolves and the winter’s grip A fair-weather god and his hymn of disaster A plaintiff shrug for the world to ignore Is that all we gave up? Will you carry me back? ‘Cause I’ve gone from there A box-office cesspit A limpness of peace Pathetic in our parody Of whitewashed disease Our escapist standstill A kiss in reverse Two short story-heroes An epic to rehearse And thought we try We’ll never collide Stray hopes and frights Too banal to fight And though we lack nothing For gloom do we strive In search of a night With demons to fight Where nothing is safe And we’re hopeless and lost In a world without saviours or light Sleep deep Sleep sound I will watch you Sailing Floating No-one near you And though you’re gone Our past lingers on The grace of my boredom Reminds me of home And though you are not inside me now And not even here And though all our memories faded soon You’re all that I fear Anti-Matter Poetry And the chaos inside Takes us all down Over the edge of no return Like stars on a foreign day In the colours of the old We’d return in the fires Your raw maudlin stutter Programming our mantras We’d settle down where the world wears thin Ghostwriting hopes from the crust of God’s grave And harken the sun! Like a burning tear Mutilating the sky That keeps bleeding like rain Like rivers Like suppurating greed For touches of you and kisses from her But she’s gone She’s gone Vanished in your lies Like bookmarks in fiction A devil recalled From the history play you call life Like a podcast of Parkinson memories Like stains on a carpet Like spit on my face Like anti-matter poetry |
t on "anti-matter poetry": "Every artist is a cannibal, every poet is a thief. they all kill their inspiration, then sing about the grief" (Bono) Art is a bitch, and so is literature - and music. they always present us worlds well out of reach - pipedream kingdoms of epic journeys, heroism, boundless yearning and lots of all the things we are, well, let's face it, not. Art is, insofar, simply destructive for your everyday middle class John Doe. It makes him long for things he neither really wants or needs: danger, uncertainty, lovesickness, bleeding hearts, je ne sais quoi. So, for our private universe, poetry is condensed destruction. It is antimatter. This album deals with the clichees that we retreat to when we celebrate unrest. When we crave for craving. When we swap the sun for a black hole. When we die a little to feel our lives again. This album is furious about the stupidity behind this. It is also helpless in avoiding it. It is a one-way street monologue. It is anti-matter poetry. |