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Indifferent Rivers Romance End

by Wreck and Reference

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mkmtrd
mkmtrd thumbnail
mkmtrd This album really hooked me. I admire its sound endlessly, pretty raw, but details turns it out to be like a "wall" and very deep atmospheric.

As I love, so I hate. Because I discover this album at a bad time in my life, it's now very strongly associated with it. And everything because of the "melancholic" sound and "intimate" lyrics Favorite track: The Clearing.
j
j thumbnail
j Perfect album. Can't stop listening. Great for blasting through headphones and writing to. Glad that Powders is different than the rest - such heavy emotion is unmatched. The other songs feel more like dancing.
solom
solom thumbnail
solom takes your mind to places. Amazing production, yet very raw. Favorite track: Languish.
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1.
Powders 03:29
I was gagging on the fat, sick dripping down my face, when you told me to relax, when you said just take a break. When you rolled me on my side, and I began to shake. When you asked me for a reason, and I said I could relate. And I don’t know what you think when you look at me, and I don’t know what to say as we lay in bed. I don’t know what you think when you fall asleep, but when I fall asleep all I can do is count my breaths. And you said what about the time outside? And I said what about the hours inside crumbling to dust? And you said what about the powders? And I said what about the fluids? And you said what about the cowards? And I said what about me, what are you trying to say? And I said what about me, what are you trying to say? And you said what do you think we’re doing here? And I said what about the night, and you said what about the colors, what about the flowers, what about your brothers, what about the sin of my father that I ate, and it made me sick for days and days and days and days and days? And you said what about the morning, what about the pain, what about the art, what about the shame, what about the artist, what about the rain, what about the colors as they all run down your face? I said what do you think I’m doing here, and you don’t know do you. And you said what do you think we’re doing here, and I just laughed. And I said what about the times we spent rotting indoors, fusing and imploding casting shade upon our lives, and you said what about the time you looked me in the eye and you said what about the time that you said you and I would die, hand in hand and now it’s time and now it’s time and now it’s time and now it’s time, and you just laughed and said it’s time for me to go and I just laughed and said ok, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine, that’s fine.
2.
Back into resentment you went, through the glass house door. The mind fills up and absorbs, does away with waste in the wake of drift. We're too damned sick yellow to ever leave then the drawbacks appear, no other worlds, no sky. Couldn’t bring in my drawings to share them with you. In the end, any particular feeling must die. Its light sinks into decay and its oceans lock in ice. The direction of survival doesn’t matter. Whichever hands you hold, bones will sow what earth remains. I wish I could say the passage of time is our friend, from whirling temptations fell outcomes of laughter, resentment, abuse. It made us so sick we couldn’t ever leave, except leave our bodies behind in an orgy of defamation and booze. In the end, nothing profound ever came, the glitter of each others eyes drying while we're in the same room. Still meeting where mattresses caved, sheets like low hanging clouds. Enjoying ephemeral freedom. One time I let go one hundred tiny birds, they fluttered a painting, deserving flight but not metaphor.
3.
Ascend 03:53
I am the son of a treacherous hand. Told golden and chosen and lifted to light. Reflected in brass on the casket of hope. In spite I decline, I decline, I decline. Now gold turns to lead turns to acid to piss. Naked and awake in the kitchen I see myself, two apples and a chair, in a house that is nonetheless collapsing from the corrosion of doubt. From a life of the mind, from the absence of heroes, just the buckling of foundations, just the ebbing of tides. While this town was talking shit about itself, while I was doing likewise, while I was mouthing hymns to the walls. Now my wounds close wearily, light is no longer with me, only a weight I cannot lift. A projection on the side of your house that reads I no longer have the energy for breathing.
4.
The Clearing 04:04
The clearing was the only place that I could finally come to the last thought, a correction could be made. That I should get rid of what plagues me, my wayward soul. If no substance exists but I nonetheless feel it as though an eroding stone in the kettle pitch dark, with water clashing against the glistening rock face. It’s my face that’s sagging towards the earth. It’s drying up, and me, hunched over in the direction that flowers droop down. She didn’t stand a chance of winning me over any more than I stood a chance of winning her. Because she was always against me, this place was always against me. It molded us, we hardened to a pose, her against me and I against her. The rest of our lives against each other, a polite charade. But where do you go when the earth doesn’t pull anymore? Where do you go when the current runs out? What do you play when the games trickle from your hands? Who do you talk to when words are scattering sand? Carve me. Do it slowly.
5.
Liver 04:47
I'm digging a hole through the veranda, through the pale dirt, through the ant farm, through my sternum. I will lie supine, a trough of disappointment. I was malingering. You took your gloves off, and reached inside and pulled out whatever you could. Your friends and your family, they gathered round me. Feasting upon my red-tendoned trough, I welcomed them all. And you can destroy me, but you have to know that, it's only because I asked you to. And you can have me, but if I let you, you have to know I have a suicide pill in my tooth.
6.
I open my mouth to spit on the walls. The words bounce around my head, vault where ego and insecurity make backroom deals to drown me. My memories of young life were left to me in such a way, stuck rather than cultured, and orphan. I whisper them to go away. In modern asylum, white walls with all the perks of white walls. I promised myself words like the sea. I promised myself mescaline and flowers. I camped at the rivers edge in rusty silt not knowing the direction of the current, but made a guess and thrust myself against it. Against all odds of peace, I wrote a letter about why life mattered and I threw it away. In the dreams that are rationed to me I enter and I am entered. Barely green eyes and drying lips, I don’t sleep in an empty house and I am not empty, white walls dense with images. If it turns it’ll never work, if it turns out the future is lavish brine with no material with which we are to build our shelter. I wont step in the same river twice, down future torrents with these unfaithful reflections. Like enormous pines growing out of the cement. Scattered lights like tiny watchmen: ready.
7.
Manifestos 04:06
I bare my brutish aim: to disguise my animalism in symbols and obscurity. A con game I’m winning, don't forget. But what about you? And you? I bare my base beliefs: negate whatever I have heard or said, it doesn't matter what. But what about you? And you? I'm conducting this wild pantomime, aloof, immune, and sour. A raven hobbles past with a broken wing. I follow it into abstraction. But you dance like a dizzy crying child. And you sing like you think that you belong. And you are plummeting past hope. And you are making a tremendous fool of yourself again.
8.
Bullwhips 03:05
I was a troubled lover then and unable to put up the dam for a different river and let the valley to grow. Still cuts me up, satin and waning. But you did bring me closer to something that I didn’t know and you did fill me with the urge to go on. But now that I don’t need you, can I rest? But now that you don’t me, can I rest? I am a troubled lover still, wreaths mystery and its warnings still hang on the threshold, guiding me always. Thorns in the haunch, pale embers of yesterday’s fires.
9.
Languish 05:24
Is this the sensible world or just a sick joke my childhood upon me? Derivative and febrile, the water always ran too hot. I singed my hair and taste buds looking for a freedom from a jail within a jail within a jail within a jail within a jail. And now you say I languish within myself. And I may languish, but I do so in a brilliant array of fragments of my fractured former self. Reformed I may be staring at the mouth of the cut. I may be begging for forgiveness from the trampling stampede. Yet still they thrust, the naked horde, showering upon me an embarrassment of riches of circuitous cliches. I bathe in indignation cradling the bastard blade to my bad joker heart. The body against the mind against the body. I sunk the blade into my shadow, twisted then took off. Feeling favored in the orchard of my discontents. I hung around in waiting rooms, a rotting clementine. Betrayal spat upon the soil and seeping to the roots. I found a break in this recursion, swallowed then jumped in. Sliding splinters into skin, I tried to feel so alive that I couldn't feel alive. This bright heat, I'm rushing toward it. This cold hand, I'm rushing. Now both memory and forgetting are against me, and the anodyne of time is just the erosion of my brain. Like a photograph exposed in reverse, my neurons decouple in the dark. Too little and too late, to free me of these thoughts, of this unmeasured world. The mind against the body against the mind. A path toward beauty. A path toward blindness. I'm rushing toward it.
10.
Unwant 07:10
Do you remember being my life guard in silence, burning screens, as all the homes were smoking. No one looked. I thought you’d have learned to swim. I thought after all these years that I would be different. Do you know the world I don’t and pillage memories to own me? Always fight or flight and noise. Stained glass proof that we were once here. You're a plain ballerina without pedestal. You're a toy ballerina without pedestal. Inside the toils you said, keeping ennui inside a white noon. Into the green sea like the fleeting tones of dreams.

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Mixed and mastered with Samur Khouja at Seahorse Sound Studios in Los Angeles, CA.

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released July 22, 2016

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Wreck and Reference Los Angeles, California

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