Frequent Resonance

by Blank Banker

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1.
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
2.
01:38
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
3.
02:46
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
4.
03:17
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
5.
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
6.
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
7.
04:36
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

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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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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