Out now on Hydra Head Records Ltd.Ed to 300 copies, 2xLP, purple and black vinyl.
Also available on limited cd.
http://www.bluecollardistro.com/hydrahead/product_info.php?products_id=3609&cPath=4_135&store=0
also coming soon:
Re-issue of first LP 'I, You, She' on SIGE Records,documentation book on HHR, tape release of past material on Dead Accents
Dust, leaves, blood, photo chemicals, rust, various metal objects, a tunnel, a barn, a monastery, a booby trap, various moldy basements, water, explosives, tarot cards, an iron bison, the Los Angeles basin, the Mojave desert, a cat, a deer, potassium cyanide, mass confusion, a friendship, and a piano on fire in the middle of the street. This is the performance/installation/image and object making/ music and mayhem collaborative known as EVERLOVELY LIGHTNINGHEART.
EVERLOVELY LIGHTNINGHEART is concerned with noise sound music weapons, psychic phenomena, delicate papers, pins and needles, the thinnest of threads, the devils trumpet, and the narrowest of lines. EVERLOVELY LIGHTNINGHEART (sometimes known as FAITH IN VAPORS THIN AS PAPER, symbolized in some circles by the image of a three headed unicorn) is an entity capable of producing, perverting, destroying, distributing, stealing, and selling a vast and sprawling array of existing as well as currently unheard of forms of cultural products and concepts.
Everlovely lightningheart
They are a danger to themselves and to all those who attempt to bind
them. They have no control.
Music is a magical weapon wielded blind and wild.
Maybe to fall upon your brow.
To shake space, to foment synchronicity,
And to bend what was once thought brittle.
Dark is the path.
Cutting through a thicket.
Hanging trees stand steeped in dew.
Lichened bows reach for their roots
Travelers here inhale the absence of light:
an opaque dust, and expel it
from their lungs in tiny shimmers
made from fighting thoughts to see.
Gnosis glows pellucid and bright.
Agitated filaments show the way to aphotic lands
where strange beasts bathe in poisoned pools
where what we think we know means not much at all.
Beyond this, is a field of psychic danger.
A landscape made of information that is available but inadmissible,
information that destabilizes our imaginary position
in relation to a sensory terrene.
There is potential here for madness, psychosis, and death,
but there is also a potential for liberation.
A potential for action that transgresses as it transcends,
that produces through annihilation, that sheds symbolic meaning and
stands naked in the sun where everything is signal and
there is no noise.
“O, sick children of the world,
Of all the many changing things
In dreary dancing past us whirled,
To the cracked tune that Chronos sings,
Words alone are certain good.”
