Star Card's first full-band missive, and my first recording as a drummer.

When the New Abrasions EP was released in 2024, the cassette version used quite a lot of tape, due to the fact that the entire EP was dubbed onto each side of the tape. The sticker on the shell read, "PROGRAM REPEATS ON SIDE B." However, listeners who flipped the tape over would notice that the B side sounds nothing like the A side. What they would hear was forty seven minutes of blown out footprints of sound – clicks, pops, wind shadows, humid expanses of blank space. Still, listeners who paid close attention may have noticed that the tracks on the B side each contain traces of their A side counterparts – a melody here, a bird call there – as though the songs had become a remote transmission, otherworldly, screaming faintly through the veil. What was heard on the B side was known internally to the band as the Dust Version of the album - each song smeared, deteriorated, made strange. These versions use the same audio as their A side counterparts, but have undergone various processes of degradation and distillation. The result is like a book left out in the weather, rained on and sunbleached a hundred times over. These are still the same songs from New Abrasions, but quite destroyed, faded, unraveled into scraps.

Already Dead Tapes turns 15 this year! Celebrating the way we usually do, with a massive compilation album featuring a whole slew of our favorite artists. 'Now That's What I Call Already Dead' is a nearly 90 minute mixtape featuring 21 artists spanning experimental, folk, harsh noise, hardcore, electronica, dreampop, drone, sludge, and just about every other genre under the sun. Out January 31st on limited edition cassette and Bandcamp, first single and pre-order are live! We're beyond stoked to bring you new music from: Slurred Oath, Enemy Zero, Heavy Heavy Low Low, Clone Stamp (FKA Complainer), Cop Funeral, Sh!tomato, Jay Howard, Sloopy McCoy, Spotted Dick, Mezzanine Swimmers, Sobbing Honey, Peopling, Human Adult Band, Michael Potter, F--- Lungs, Painted Faces, Ian MacPhee, Matt Robidoux, Nandele, Receive, and The Binary Marketing Show. We hope you enjoy the music and are eternally grateful to all of our artists and supporters for helping us make it to this milestone. Here's to the next 15...

"An amazing journey through the the sonic ethers of planet earth....it feels like the world itself was singing..." – Terry Riley, June 24, 2023 On June 24th, 2023, to celebrate Terry Riley's 88th birthday, ContaQt and MIT Sounding presented a global telematic event that resonated – literally - worldwide. At the stroke of midnight EDT, a diverse community of 88 individuals, spread across 60 locations in 23 countries and 6 continents came together online to play music with one another, live and in real-time. With no pre-recorded material, no click tracks, no safety nets or contingency plans, together they performed Poppy 88, a collective composition arranged by Evan Ziporyn, inspired by - and based on - Riley's 1968 recording, Poppy Nogood and the Phantom Band The livestreamed concert pushed the boundaries of virtual telematic performance, showcasing the transformative power of artistic collaboration combined with smart technology to transcend structural and geographical barriers. While previous live telematic performances have involved larger ensembles, with groups of musicians clustered in 2-12 transmitting stations, this performance distinguished itself by originating from a significantly larger number of locations, 60 in all. This creative repurposing of technology is very much in the spirit of Terry Riley’s original piece. In the 1960’s, Riley utilized tape loops – originally a DIY ‘hack’ of reel-to-reel - to create distant canonic layers of melody: his ‘Phantom Band.’ For this performance, in 2023, the ensemble similarly repurposed the inherent limitations of streaming audio – i.e., physical distance and varying data rates – to conjure similarly complex layered textures. This global virtual event brought together musicians from Athens, Berlin, Brussels, Dublin, Istanbul, New York City, Pretoria, São Paulo, San Francisco, Tokyo, Toronto, Warsaw, and more. From Mallacoota, in southeast Australia, to Raufarhöfn, in northeast Iceland, and 58 other locations in between, musicians from a wide range of genres and backgrounds used Audiomovers’ ListenTo to stream their sound to Wawken, Saskatchewan, where Canadian composer/sound artist Jeff Morton mixed and retransmitted their sounds back to them – and the world – in real time. After watching the performance from Mito, Japan, Terry Riley himself joined the livestream to greet the musicians, expressing his profound appreciation: "It felt like the earth itself were singing. You are my community." Listening to the recording almost a year later, he added: “A year has gone by since I last heard it. It is an amazing journey through the sonic ethers of planet Earth. So many awesome musicians were involved. Also, the technical support was amazing without which it could never have happened. I am deeply honored and moved by the efforts of all my music brothers and sisters who contributed their efforts and artistry to make this almost impossible dream a success!"

Netlabel OGs Audiobulb have released a double-cassette compilation of remixes & covers of tunes by Erik Schoster AKA He Can Jog, including one by Anura. Erik is an old bud from the pre-streaming-era internet music world. We went on to form the noise duo some years later, but we first met through early-00’s internet music – a different scene than it is today. At that point the vibe was something like , , , “folktronica”, and . It was a cool sound & a cool scene, and I’m stoked to hear that echoed in this comp. My track is a cover of , off his 2008 classic . Originally a laptop-beat kind of sitch, I transcribed the tune and played it on guitars, drum machines, onde magnétique, and glockenspiel. It’s a very cute & catchy tune, and was real fun to learn and play. The rest of the comp is delightful as well, and boasts an impressive roster of fabulous musicians from the Audiobulb family and beyond.

On deck for Full Spectrum Records is the release of Eulogy for Land, the latest work from long-time spiritual brother of the label Brendan Landis’ Hey Exit project. After many, many years of correspondence and playing shows with the FS artist family all across this great land of ours, this is somehow the first material he’s ever submitted to us for consideration. We think it was worth the wait, though, and we are pleased to present this expansive set of elemental guitar music for life on a dying planet. Recorded in the bygone era of 2019, Eulogy was conceived as a meditation on the climate crisis. Struggling to comprehend what was shaping up to become one of the worst fire seasons in California state history – Brendan’s home state – and what has come to be known as the Holocene mass extinction event, he set out to create a piece that honored this epochal death-event that we are somehow, unbelievably and absurdly, simultaneously both living through and perpetrating as a species. Brendan took cues from traditional styles of funeral music from around the world to craft this five-part work for unaccompanied baritone guitar, acoustic guitar, and contact mics, recorded in one uninterrupted take. Instead of presenting an hour of scorched earth sonics and harsh noise, though, Eulogy for Land rests gracefully in repose; a stately work of blackened blues that reminds us to remember that when we talk about land, we also talk about all the living things that are on it, in it, above it, around it.

Just after the mp3 codec was developed, but before streaming technologies got up and running, a rich underground of bedroom musicians from all over the world were churning out singles and EPs on various forums and servers. They often used tracker software that allowed them to share songs as MOD files (smaller than an mp3 for slow connections, plus, remixable). The sound of these scenes was loose and playful, and the communities that sprung up around them involved nearly zero commerce. It was a special time for both the music and the platform. Stairs EP is a collection of short instrumental tunes that, for me, evoke the feel of that time and place.

Some extra tracks from the Anura sessions that didn't fit on the album. More of a post-rock thing.

A gentle pair of quarantine recordings.

– Rachael Pollack, description of the Knight of Wands

– Rachael Pollack, description of the Four of Swords

– Rachael Pollack, Six of Swords

– Rachael Pollack, description of the Queen of Swords

Nine songs somewhere in the downer pop / shoegaze zones.

"In some ways the Tower is the most complex of all the trumps; its more subtle meanings are at odds with its obvious ones. Like the Devil its divinatory meanings usually derive from the obvious. It usually refers to a period of violent upheaval (either literally or psychologically), the destruction of long-established situations, the break-up of relationships in anger or even violence. "Because the card carries such furious significance many people recoil at the sight of it. The reaction raises the vital question of how to regard the Tarot's more fearful images. We must learn to use all experience, the Tower as well as the Lovers. When the Tower appears it is necessary to remember that it can lead to freedom; the explosions are clearing away some situation that has built up intolerable pressure. They can lead to new beginnings. "To say that the Tower's appearance usually signifies difficult experience it not to insist that the deeper meanings will never arise. The card can mean a flash of enlightenment, particularly if such enlightenment replaces a limited view of life. Only the reader's intuition and experience, as well as the hints from the other cards, can indicate the specific meaning." – Rachael Pollack, description of the Tower

Culled from a few hundred session files, Teen Trax is probably the most charming, fun music I've ever written. It mostly came about in the days of pre- or early-social-media internet, in my teens and early 20's. None of these tracks were ever published beyond mp3s posted to LiveJournal or CD-Rs given to friends. Most have never really left my hard drive. (A small number of them are more recent, but to me have the same spirit as these early tunes.) A few of these are quite overwrought, but it's mostly very playful, naive music. One thing I kept thinking of while putting this collection together was the immense number of hours that went into all these tracks. This was where I cut my teeth on production, melody and harmony, arranging, recording – so many things. It's always a trip coming back to one's early work, and I'm glad to see it finally taken off the shelf. Teen Trax is a lot of music, and while compiling it, I was aware of how tedious these archival, hard-drive-dump releases can get. Close as I am to the material, I made sure the cutting floor was about three times larger than the final cut. I also performed some emergency mixing and arrangement surgery on certain tracks, and remastered everything. What you're hearing is an archival release that's been polished and arranged just so. Hope you like it. The LP is the main course, containing the most complete, catchy material. The EPs are each a collection of b-sides, miscellany, segues, sketches, ephemera. EP1 (lo) is more downtempo, easier to put on quietly. The tunes on EP2 (hi) are more aggressive, up front, and brightly colored. Special shoutout to Will Silver who drew the video game art by hand back in the day on his G3 clamshell laptop. (Come to think of it I recall him loaning me the same machine for all-nighters at a back table of the local Denny's, where many of these tracks were written. Suburbs, baby!)

Culled from a few hundred session files, Teen Trax is probably the most charming, fun music I've ever written. It mostly came about in the days of pre- or early-social-media internet, in my teens and early 20's. None of these tracks were ever published beyond mp3s posted to LiveJournal or CD-Rs given to friends. Most have never really left my hard drive. (A small number of them are more recent, but to me have the same spirit as these early tunes.) A few of these are quite overwrought, but it's mostly very playful, naive music. One thing I kept thinking of while putting this collection together was the immense number of hours that went into all these tracks. This was where I cut my teeth on production, melody and harmony, arranging, recording – so many things. It's always a trip coming back to one's early work, and I'm glad to see it finally taken off the shelf. Teen Trax is a lot of music, and while compiling it, I was aware of how tedious these archival, hard-drive-dump releases can get. Close as I am to the material, I made sure the cutting floor was about three times larger than the final cut. I also performed some emergency mixing and arrangement surgery on certain tracks, and remastered everything. What you're hearing is an archival release that's been polished and arranged just so. Hope you like it. The LP is the main course, containing the most complete, catchy material. The EPs are each a collection of b-sides, miscellany, segues, sketches, ephemera. EP1 (lo) is more downtempo, easier to put on quietly. The tunes on EP2 (hi) are more aggressive, up front, and brightly colored. Special shoutout to Will Silver who drew the video game art by hand back in the day on his G3 clamshell laptop. (Come to think of it I recall him loaning me the same machine for all-nighters at a back table of the local Denny's, where many of these tracks were written. Suburbs, baby!)

Culled from a few hundred session files, Teen Trax is probably the most charming, fun music I've ever written. It mostly came about in the days of pre- or early-social-media internet, in my teens and early 20's. None of these tracks were ever published beyond mp3s posted to LiveJournal or CD-Rs given to friends. Most have never really left my hard drive. (A small number of them are more recent, but to me have the same spirit as these early tunes.) A few of these are quite overwrought, but it's mostly very playful, naive music. One thing I kept thinking of while putting this collection together was the immense number of hours that went into all these tracks. This was where I cut my teeth on production, melody and harmony, arranging, recording – so many things. It's always a trip coming back to one's early work, and I'm glad to see it finally taken off the shelf. Teen Trax is a lot of music, and while compiling it, I was aware of how tedious these archival, hard-drive-dump releases can get. Close as I am to the material, I made sure the cutting floor was about three times larger than the final cut. I also performed some emergency mixing and arrangement surgery on certain tracks, and remastered everything. What you're hearing is an archival release that's been polished and arranged just so. Hope you like it. The LP is the main course, containing the most complete, catchy material. The EPs are each a collection of b-sides, miscellany, segues, sketches, ephemera. EP1 (lo) is more downtempo, easier to put on quietly. The tunes on EP2 (hi) are more aggressive, up front, and brightly colored. Special shoutout to Will Silver who drew the video game art by hand back in the day on his G3 clamshell laptop. (Come to think of it I recall him loaning me the same machine for all-nighters at a back table of the local Denny's, where many of these tracks were written. Suburbs, baby!)

Arterial came about while I was sorting through deep archives of old tracks, sessions, songs, files, sketches, scores, field recordings, sounds. Cataloging old hard drives of unfinished and abandoned material was a project that took me a year or so, and I ended up with about 600 discreet projects in all – ranging from exploratory coding sketches in CSound all the way to finished albums of songs that I’d simply shelved and forgotten about. Some of the tunes in the archives went back to the early 00’s, others were from months prior. It was a huge vault, and the cutting room floor saw about two thirds of this material get swept up and re-shelved. Still, that left a couple hundred tracks to be kicked out into the world to fend for themselves. Arterial is part of that. So many nights in my teens and early twenties were spent on tracks like these, up late with a G3 clamshell laptop and PlayerPro or Reason 1.0, just learning how to write. Finishing them in 2019 was a much quicker affair, having a few compositional templates in mind and applying them to a broad range of raw material. Oftentimes two or three sketches would end up transposed and quilted together into a single track. Overall I’m quite fond of how it came together. It’s a strange thing dealing with such a huge amount of old material. Not just a creative exercise, but also a weird compression of memories, a photo book cut up and reassembled out of order, no longer a time capsule but a weird kaleidoscopic memorial. The album is best heard as either background noise or a headphone journey. Disc one comprises tracks 1-12. Disc two, tracks 13-22.

A cover of the first tape, from 2015. That year, I had put together a live arrangement of Else for guitar duo, and was playing it around town with Norihiro Kikuta. Since then, I'd always wanted to rerecord that EP properly (the original is kind of a lofi mess). Last spring I was putting together a noise-table setup, and figured playing through Else suite on synths would be a good way to break it in. So, this can be thought of as a cleaner re-do of the original Else tape, using synthesizers instead of guitars.

Retiform is a longform, semi-composed piece for guitar and electronics. The takes here are each single performances with only one or two edits. In them, I'm playing through Greg's 8-channel custom broken-cassette-player system. The piece itself is divided into sections, planned out after previous takes were recorded and listened to. There's an alternate take at the end, one with more gradual transitions that are harder to define. This take is presented as a single track.

Flows between extra harsh zones, murky swamp vibes, and melodic material, kind of reminiscent of , but more active. It Will Be Far From Here It was recorded over a few recent sessions with a new noise table setup I've been working on.

An unprocessed recording from a webcam located 34 miles off the coast of North Carolina.

A CD-length collection of six instrumental pieces for various combinations of guitar, voice, synthesizer, field recordings, and weird audio processing techniques. These pieces were written between 2009 and 2018, in California and New York, wherever I was living at the time. They're collected here for a kind of interiority they share. Most of them involve multiple instruments, but they're all solo pieces, in a way. 151029 was recorded in Queens, 2015, using guitar + field recordings of my block. 180822 was recorded in Brooklyn, 2018, using vocals + a few pedals. 090913 was recorded in Berkeley, 2009, using guitar + synth + samples. 170821 was recorded in Brooklyn, 2017, using guitar. 111209 was recorded in Brooklyn, 2011, using synths. 090709 was recorded in Berkeley, 2009, using guitar + processing.

A collection of pieces based on Vomir's HNW concept – "no ideas, no change, no development, no entertainment, no remorse". I was interested in finding the edges of what can constitute stasis, and how much change can actually happen in a piece before we no longer perceive it as one static sound. 0 of 0 isn’t really something to be listened to in one go (though I won’t tell you how to live your life). It’s more like an installation piece. You just sit with it for a bit at a time. Open Pieces: The loud ones. Open like a faucet, or the throttle of a car engine. Pulse Pieces: These use repetition of a single sound with a beginning and an end to create stasis, rather than a continuous sound with no temporal features. Membrane Pieces: These ones feel to me like the sound has two layers - a membrane on top, and another pushing (seeping?) through it. The membrane "looks" uneven up close, but if you unfocus your eyes it quickly becomes uniform. Evolving Pieces: These pieces ask how long a transition must be before stasis is no longer perceived. Small Pieces: A pleasant ending after all this mess. Closed Pieces: Barely there. Most speakers will not play these tracks at all.

Guitar through custom 8-channel broken cassette loop system.

A collection of gloomy instrumental pieces written with stillness in mind – a few shades darker than usual.

Advection is a pretty light, airy affair – a trio of instrumentals made in a beta version of VCV Rack over a couple weeks in the summer of 2018 (you can actually still hear the low-CPU pops that characterized the beta, ha). I was listening to a lot of Laurie Spiegel and Keith Fullerton Whitman at the time, and catching the synth bug in general. Parallel to these interests, I've always been very taken with the music of windchimes. Over the years, I’ve played duets with them, tried to mimic their rhythms on guitar and other instruments, and even taken a few stabs at recreating their grammar in CSound or Max, all to varying degrees of non-success. Modular synths have always seemed like a fun route to get closer to windchime music, but the price tag has always been a deterrent for me. Once I found VCV Rack, it seemed like a much simpler proposition. After a couple weeks of plugging stuff into other stuff, I put together three separate takes on the music of windchimes – the first track bearing the least obvious resemblance to its inspiration, and the third, the most.

A pair of mid-90's downer pop / alt rock b-sides. Just me, singing and playing guitar.

An album that starts off busy but then yawns into West Texas emptiness, nothing but horizon in all directions, an hour and a half of pure dusk.

Side A is a lively instrumental jaunt – balloons, PVC pipe, sheet metal, drum machines, you get the idea. Side B features David reading stories from magazine #25 (c. 1981), with accompaniment from yours truly. Definitely the most obscene thing I've ever released.

Roughly sixty recordings of Erik Satie's Gymnopédie 1, layered atop each other, and timestretched to the length of the longest recording (about six minutes). Includes bonus 30-minute version, plus arrangement for 80-piece orchestra by Evan Ziporyn.

A 40 minute piece for solo unaccompanied baritone guitar – one take, no loops, no overdubs. RIYL the sound of nothing, in every direction, forever.

Twenty one tracks of blistering grind-or-whatever, clocking in at about three and a half minutes – gone before it arrives. Bonus Nine Inch Nails cover on the B-side.

Taken for Granted was improvised simultaneously in Brooklyn / Oakland on the full moon of July 19th, 2016, with no monitoring between the two sessions, and no temporal edits to the final mix. Tall Fields was recorded with both of us in Brooklyn, on March 29th, 2017, based on an arrangement from October 2016.

The Cutting Pitch EP (and its predecessor, ) was conceived around a favorite writing exercise: Come up with 30 ideas (that don’t suck) in a single session. I wanted to make music that would imply, rather than assert. My goal was to conceive of 30 ideas and give them each proper, respectful treatment: Form each idea fully, title them meaningfully, record good takes, mix and master the release as I would any other. Each track was to feel like looking through a keyhole into the world of a song you couldn’t hear. Compared to Lens' summery, upbeat feel, Cutting Pitch was a decidedly colder affair – though no less playful. Same idea, but this time stern, psychedelic, otherworldly. (Yes I was listening to a lot of black metal at the time.) I asked myself: How far could I stretch out an idea in this format before it stopped implying a song? The answer is probably somewhere in these tracks. As it happens, I never did elaborate on any of these tracks, preferring to think of the collection as a whole piece – finished, in a way. There’s a quote from that page out of Thelonious Monk’s notebook that says, "Don't play everything (or every time); let some things go by. Some music just imagined. What you don't play can be more important than what you do." Cool.

A trio of longform pieces for guitar and synth. About sixty minutes of oceanic instrumental music, recorded over the summer. "156. 'Why is the sky blue?' –A fair enough question, and one I have learned the answer to several times. Yet every time I try to explain it to someone or remember it to myself, it eludes me. Now I like to remember the question alone, as it reminds me that my mind is essentially a sieve, that I am mortal. "157. The part I do remember: that the blue of the sky depends on the darkness of empty space behind it. As one optics journal puts it, 'The color of any planetary atmosphere viewed against the black of space and illuminated by a sunlike star will also be blue.' In which case blue is something of an ecstatic accident produced by void and fire." - Maggie Nelson, Bluets

A collection of songs from seven inch records and compilations released over the past couple years. Drifts between hazey shoegaze and sludgey harsh feels.

The Lens EP (and its second installment, ) was conceived around a favorite writing exercise: Come up with 30 ideas (that don’t suck) in a single session. It has a relatively summery, upbeat sound, and it’s probably the only work of mine where you can hear any kind of jazz influence (a tradition that’s deeply important to me as a listener and practitioner of spiritual music, but from which I maintain a respectful distance in my own work). I wanted to make music that would imply, rather than assert. My goal was to conceive of 30 ideas and give them each proper, respectful treatment: Form each idea fully, title them meaningfully, record good takes, mix and master the release as I would any other. Each track was to feel like looking through a keyhole into the world of a song you couldn’t hear. As it happens, I never did elaborate on any of these tracks, preferring to think of the collection as a whole piece – finished, in a way. There’s a quote from that page out of Thelonious Monk’s notebook that says, "Don't play everything (or every time); let some things go by. Some music just imagined. What you don't play can be more important than what you do." Cool.

A sizable collection of ambient instrumentals for guitar duo.

A sixty-six minute and six second tape of instrumental guitar downers. This album turned out to be a bit of a goodbye to the world of improvised music for me. I had started getting my head into songwriting territory, but I still had years of this rather alien music in my fingers, freeform and feral as anything. At the time, I was digesting as much of the Loren Connors catalog as I could get my hands on, and also had a lot of Stars of the Lid on repeat. I wanted to collide these things, but avoid making a collection of ambient tunes, and instead keep it on the trajectory of Fahey and short-form American guitar instrumentals. The result is a hearty collection of songs with wildly varied processes of construction – some recorded in a single take, others composed and painted together in the DAW; some blasted apart or blown out using broken tape machines and pedals in the studio, others the product of long, strange chains of digital signal processing. In my personal life, I was in a pretty gnarly place mentally and emotionally. I cried a lot while making this music. It was a lot of late nights with tape machines and various studio tricks, a lot of long walks home from the studio, listening to the evening’s mixes, processing multiple layers of grief that I didn’t yet understand (inasmuch as we ever do). In the end, The Bitter Scent of Light was one of the most satisfying and true time capsules I’ve fashioned within my little creative labyrinth. When I listen back, I can still hear the hills, valleys, rivers, swamps of it all. It feels good to have this not only as a document for myself, but also as an album to share on its own merits.

A pair of slowcoreish / shoegazey songs.

A half hour of instrumental music for baritone guitar, similar in vibe to the first tape. It was recorded in a single session in May, not quite improvised but not quite composed, celebrating a creative / spiritual birthday of sorts. "So writing is the method of using the word as bait: the word fishing for whatever is not word. When this non-word — between the lines — takes the bait, something has been written. Once whatever is between the lines is caught, the word can be tossed away in relief. But that’s where the analogy ends: the non-word, taking the bait, incorporates it. So what saves you is writing absentmindedly." "What I’m writing to you is not for reading — it’s for being." – Clarice Lispector, Água Viva

A mix made for MfP.

A 20 minute EP of short pieces for guitar.

A handful of funereal instrumentals to observe the reluctant beginning of spring.

Live set on Josh Landes' show Infinite Distortion.

Taking various folklores and symbolisms surrounding the salamander and its relationship to fire as a jumping off point, Caudata is a considered exploration of extreme sounds and emotions. These extremes are presented not as countering or neutralizing one another but as necessary opposites, defining and occasionally balancing each other.

A continuation of the threads started on Yes They Said So: acoustic/electric, murky/crisp, shortform post-rock, with a bit of sludge / doom metal vibes to round things out.

A pair of heavy, melodic tracks – too aggressive to call ambient, too soft to call noise. Layered guitars, field recordings, long-tone singing, contact mic abuse.

Quiet, glacial miniatures for mostly-solo baritone guitar.

Acoustic / electric guitar and koto compositions, noise miniatures, field recordings.

A sharp set of one-shot guitar pieces. Airs for acoustic guitar on side A, electric guitar + mixer improvisations on side B.

It Breaks utilizes an exciting new recording process whereby a live performance is recorded directly onto a pane of glass, after which the resultant audio haze is carefully cured, scraped away, and reassembled just so.

A potpourri of early miscellany, recorded 2009 - 2012.

entropic post-coital papacy ritual, dank pond moss reflections and shrunken head chatter tenderly eviscerate a hallowed ground of cracked earthen thrones. inner miasma of dung beetle lifecycles and botched paganism filtered through a crumbling lattice of luminescent foliage

Two remixes from Yeah We Get Along.

Sac's track is an edited amalgam of live recordings. Hey Exit's track is an etude for solo, unprocessed, electric guitar.

Burned CD-R with booklet, packaged in hand-painted string. Listening to CD and reading booklet requires destroying the package. You get to keep the button though.

Hey Exit's first recording. A meditation on persistence.