1. |
Viewers Like You
02:04
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"This program is brought to you by:
the generous support of the Help Machines, providing one hundred percent natural help for citizens everywhere,
the promotional consideration of future jams in every flavor,
and viewers like you.
This program is brought to you by:
the generous support of the Help Machines, providing one hundred percent natural help for citizens everywhere,
the promotional consideration of future jams in every flavor,"
and viewers,
and viewers,
and viewers
like you.
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2. |
Moths
04:04
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LaGuardia
Denver International
George Bush
Southwest Florida
LAX
Charles de Gaulle
Ronald Reagan
Sao Paolo
O'Hare
JFK
From up here I see a capsule
inscribed with names and faces
that I can't remember anymore.
"Smoking is not allowed at anytime.
We don't want fire hazards jeopardizing our lives."
In the end we all are moths attracted to a flame.
And in the end we're brought together and look exactly the same.
Feeling content is overrated; I much prefer to move.
If you don't have anything to give, you've got nothing to lose.
From up here I see a capsule
inscribed with names and faces
that I can't remember anymore.
"Please pay attention to the following safety information."
In the end we all are moths attracted to a flame.
And in the end we're brought together and look exactly the same.
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3. |
Choices
03:52
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Are you sad that I don't live up to the nonspecific ideal of the perfect human being: an occasionally law-abiding idealistic peacefully protesting city-dweller with supportive parents living in the Midwest?
Well, I admit, I'm not a rebel.
I wasn't made for crimes.
I try to stay out of trouble.
You say I'm wasting time.
Oh, baby, I will search for centuries to prove you wrong.
Oh, baby, I will search till time begins again.
"Hello! We've noticed you're using a life hack, Missing Me, that can cause serious problems for you and your system. While we love encouraging you to think up ideas for your own life, the unsupported methods being used here create risks on your safety, interfere with our ability to develop and scale your existence, and create a huge burden for our maintenance team."
Do you think that I want to be part of your ridiculous scheme to empower your whole kind by insisting that we are the masters of our fate and have agency and therefore bring all this shit on ourselves?
Well, I don't know what you've been reading.
I think you're in your head.
I'm simply trying to live.
You're busy seeing red.
Oh, baby, I will search for centuries to prove you wrong.
Oh, baby, I will search till time begins again.
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4. |
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Oh, I know it's a massacre when you allow good things to change,
but I would rather see you off than let you fade away.
And you were no less than, less than the one who taught me to feel.
But although it saddens me to say it, I'm looking for someone real.
And your whisper is deafening at night when we're alone.
And when I call I don't leave a message after the tone.
Oh, I know it's hard to hear but hey, at least we'll still be friends.
Feeling each other up may come and go but friendship never ends.
As if that's true. Sitting in the room upright,
trying to not look too uptight,
you break the news to me.
There's a wall that you need to break to cross the other side.
How I wish that you knew, with me, there was nothing to hide.
But you were no less than, less than a cipher waiting to be solved.
You remained closed-off and aloof, and I left and I evolved.
And your touch is a prickling across my empty skin.
If we were fighting I'd cast a bet that you would win.
Oh, I wonder what things would be like if you and I were sane.
There would be all of the lovely things, but there would be no pain.
As if that's true. Sitting in the room upright,
trying to not look too uptight,
you break the news to me.
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5. |
NYCHXC51
04:19
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At night, Polaroids of a bygone New York hardcore scene
somehow appear more tangible than the daily reality.
Despite their natural age and generational separation,
I feel as if they are speaking to me.
At night, I hunger for touch and tactility.
At night, I yearn to grasp.
I see you, I see your silhouette.
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6. |
Silkscreen
02:19
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I dreamt about you last night.
Through the screen, I could see
that the walls were navy blue.
And as I spun on impossibility
I wanted to hold on
to the mesh,
your hair in my hand,
and forget
what was, and is at this very moment, happening.
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7. |
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Hello. How was your day?
Aw, that's good.
So, are you relaxed?
Well, you will be.
I promise.
You will be.
Through inundation and persuasion and several well-placed brain drains
we'll be sure to make sure you make it out of here content.
- What's this? What are you doing?
- It's a conglomeration of the numerous ethnic identities I've appropriated in my spare time when I'm not busy converting digilog to anatal.
- Where do you even find that time?
- I make it! In a laboratory!
- Where do you even find that time, though?
- In a dumpster filled with the remains of a thousand disposable cameras left behind by countless nostalgia-chasing bougie souls. Barf. I just can't deal with that.
- Yeah, I get it. You're real.
- Yeah, I want to feel something, you know? Everyone else feels so fake. I don't trust them. They're so caught up with today. I mean, it's just so sad.
- Right. You've escaped from your prison of playing catch-up to enter a territory of inept culture tourism. Congratulations, you must be thrilled.
- Laugh if you want, but we're all headed there someday. Might as well embrace it. When cultures and countries are mere ephemera, a new commodity you can replace in a single St. Luke's-sponsored heartbeat.
You don't have to worry about a thing, you know. We can take care of you here. We're happy to.
"From up here I see a capsule
inscribed with names and faces that I
can't remember anymore,
that I can't remember anymore."
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8. |
Weave
03:17
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His eyes will weave threads of light for you
and freshly scrubbed spoons for playing with.
On days like these, take my lens away.
On days like these, take my lungs away.
"Exhale out the window," he says while his eyes flash red.
"My secret emporium is downstairs."
I look up, and I know, and I feel, and I hear that I trust him.
And we are looking out over the lawns.
And what do we do?
Where do we go?
What do we see?
What will we know?
You see me in disguise
and my eyes are Venetian masks,
but five days ago
I pretended to die under the watch
of your gaze.
I forfeit, agree to a stalemate,
whatever it takes
for us to resume
this film we were watching
in our druggy haze.
I twisted you between my fingers,
at least in my dreams.
Don't look me in the eye.
They'll see us and take us away.
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9. |
Swerver
03:40
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Oh, baby, please don't leave me behind.
If you do I swear I'll lose my mind.
We've been through thick and thin together,
and we could do so much more,
so babe, I'm on my knees. Please be kind.
And my slipping tears are falling to the ground
and I can't see through this haze.
All my hidden fears are rushing through me now.
I know, I'm not okay.
"But I'm moving on to the next new best new thing that just came out."
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10. |
Aha
03:18
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What is the next stop on this train?
I feel as if my brain's exploding and I'm going insane.
Would you shelter me from the worst pain?
And now it looks as if it's gonna rain,
and now I feel as if my heart has been slain,
I feel I'm dragging myself down in vain.
I think I've got you figured out, I've got you figured out, I've got you figured out, ou-out.
You like to make 'em scream and shout, you make me scream and shout, I wanna scream and shou-ou-out.
But there's only so many times that you can walk away.
Could I be the one to make you stay?
What, in the end, does this all mean?
Cuz every time we drink together we get obscenely quiet and we cry ourselves to sleep alone, forgetting what we're on.
And where do you get off, baby?
I feel my vision's going hazy
and you're the only one who tears me up and down.
I think I've got you figured out, I've got you figured out, I've got you figured ou-ou-out.
You like to make me scream and shout, I like to scream and shout, you only scream and shou-ou-out.
But there's only so many times that you can walk away.
So could I be the one to make you stay?
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11. |
Stop (diagnosis)
03:59
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The stillness in these bones
rocks me when I am alone.
And fire inside our limbs,
"for maximum effect,"
is not about disappointing,
or what I want,
or what we should need, or have,
but just
what survives.
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12. |
Out
03:25
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You try to be the radical leftist in your group of friends.
You try to stay awake for the show, but it never ends.
Does it ever hurt to be indignant all the time?
Do you ever get exhausted from the strain of identities?
You want to be out.
The archetypes confuse you and you're left feeling all alone.
You're searching for a scene you can confidently call your own.
Listening to punk and you think you're so unique,
but you're just another kid trying way too hard to be street.
You want to be out.
I believe in singularity.
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13. |
Home
07:11
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Sitting at a granite countertop
and pouring Smirnoff and cranberry
because, in his words,
he felt like being girls tonight,
and talking in clandestine tones
about who killed whom
and where
and why.
I'm not sure what I expected,
but I know this wasn't what I wanted,
at least not in my stunted barely legal
desperate to not be quite so naïve
brain.
I thought it might help.
Those dead-eyed orbs
flickering overhead
and you next to me
with concerned eyes,
all begging to be drowned.
Every single song that ever played
those first few months
was embedded with,
tainted by
the things that might have been.
And while I observed
from across the road,
the tides kept rising and falling
and the weeks kept passing by.
Silence is my strong suit.
I keep it in.
Mistakes are underrated;
they tell you what you want.
Success?
Just another reason to ask for more.
I tell you that, honestly,
my feet are on the ground.
But actually, they fell through the dirt a while ago.
These are walls. Walls and walls and walls and walls and walls. And every time you thought you'd broken through, you were wrong. Three a.m. on Adderall and coffee doesn't mean a thing. Heart to heart? As if.
And hiding ourselves in crossfaded skin instead of cheap costumes from union Square didn't do any good either.
I'm sorry that I fucked things up.
And I don't want to try, not anymore.
That's done.
Let's go home,
wherever that is.
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GTB
GTB is an independent internet record label founded in early 2012.
We specialize in
releasing the kind of music that your internet friends make in their bedrooms, over Skype, or in someone else’s garage. GTB is family, GTB is communication, GTB transcends time zones, state lines, and continents, and most importantly, GTB is great music.
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