Frequent Resonance

by Blank Banker

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about

Recorded by Jon San Paolo, in Chicago, at Burn The Furniture, January 15-17th, 2016.

Vocals* and mixing done at home in Montana.

*Faiz’s vocals recorded at his Chicago residence.

Mastered by Chris Goosman at Baseline Audio.

Lyrics to Varicose Reins by Faiz Razi. All the rest by Orion Layton.

Artwork by Andrew Rench.

Ellen Layton sings on A Mount. Faiz Razi sings on Varicose Reins. For all else:

Andrew Rench: guitar
Jeff Fox: bass, percussion
Neal Markowski: drums, percussion
Orion Layton: guitar, vocals

Thanks:
Ellen, Faiz, Jon, Troy, Jason

credits

released July 18, 2016

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all rights reserved

about

Blank Banker Chicago, Illinois

Blank Banker was a 4-track tape in the 90's, a folder-full of songs leftover from Champaign-Urbana's Rectangle in the early 00's, and now it's a four-piece rock band playing sometimes-poppy, sometimes-angular, sometimes-fake-jazz music with guitar noodles never getting too much in the way of a singable tune. Steely-Youth Polv-ixies? ... more

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Track Name: Void Avoidance
Was at the manger bris
Under the bodhi tree
Soma session/gita lesson
It’s all the same to me
It’s void avoidance
You polarize your positions
Crystalize your identity
Intolerant of dissension
Allergic to ambiguity
You’re in a purity trap
Know what? So what.
All night
Nothing but night
Track Name: Hard
So look
You just took
The very last breath
That you’re ever going to get
And that’s hard
It’s fuckin hard for me
Coz I’m sorry for your loss
I’m sorry for your loss
At 63
Stage 4
3 weeks
You’re no more
And that’s hard
It’s fuckin hard to see
Coz from any just-world construct
It’s clear that you got fucked
Out of retirement
Out of old age
Out of just seeing what happens next
That’s hard
Track Name: A Mount
Check my shit out
Fly from a mount to a fountain
When we play
Matter of fact
This is just after one practice
And we’re okay
So far
Perpetual doubt
Both within with and without
Is the natural state
Being a breeze
Whenever certainty’s needed
Is always the aim
Shoot low
Let’s make a meaning
But call it what it is
Let’s watch the wires
As much as the jump kicks
And try to have fun
Not
Let’s not be LARPing
What’s real’s far out enough
Let’s not be LARPing
What’s real’s far out enough
And try to have fun
Track Name: Bleep Blop
Been sitting too long
On this park bench
Reading Alex Krycek’s documents
I’m a Skoal man with an action plan
To piss of presidents
Piss off piss off piss off piss of piss off
Bomb bomb bomb bomb bomb bomb
Post-apoptose
Digits divide
Describing negative-space constellations
From the blank bank
To the twink tank
Frequent resonance
Bleep blop bleep blop bleep blop bleep blop bleep blop
Bomb bomb bomb bomb bomb bomb
I’m still here in time
Track Name: Section of a Thing
A section of a thing
Somehow exceeds
Its beginning
Dimensions
I don’t understand
How it happens
What was small as sand
Expanded
To all known experience
Supplanted
The void if one ever was
A section of a thing
Is about all I know now
Not that I’d want it
Any other way
Though I know with time
All may change or stay same
Or just be
Track Name: Varicose Reins
X-ray film
Reveals a braille
Constellation
Underneath the skin
A speckled spiral wound round
Coughing lungs
Coughing up blood
Cough it up
Cough it out
Coughing up
Coughing up blood
Cough it up
Cough it up and
Out along the spiral arms of toxic dust
If it ain’t not, is it is? goddamnit, don’t explain
Cowell’s daughter’s lips exposed
Like film against a livestock backdrop
Damnit
Goddamnit don’t explain
Restless legs
Shake miles of veins they’re forcing
Fever fatigue mixed up with
Chronic coughing
Blood from loins
Up to my lungs
Blood from lungs
Out of my mouth
Cough it out
Cough it up
I cough it out
I cough it up and out
We expel the language from our lungs
Exhaling patterns ’til we’re strung
Out on the pills and needles
Miles along the varicose high-
We aspire to aspiration of
Syllabic constellation
Out along the spiral arms of toxic dust
We expel the pattern from our lungs
Out along the spiral arms of toxic dust
Track Name: Spiral Split
Split from the spiral
And into the black
No more solar wind blowing
No longer home
Out in the in-between
Well past the shock
Faltering beams go dark
Propellant stops
Drift out
Caught up in other arms now
A platter spins up
And onto a golden record
A stylus is dropped