Get all 30 skirted Records releases available on Bandcamp and save 60%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Goodbye, HELLo, My Daughter the Spider, Slip: A Bogan-opera-not in 3 parts, Run Peter Run, Never Mind the Threat, Here's the Distraction, Speaking in Dungs, Ba-Umf, and 22 more.
1. |
Catastrophic Engine
03:32
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Florid-flail, it's the top-down alpha-male, offload at the unknown Gloat a status - type, type, type, type. Darkest nightmare of the Soul, dressed up in shit-stir glow, empty holes crave a caved in Grave to satisfy that bite. Sucked in, the stuck-in-test, all sticky Sickly, it’s a mess. A who's-who of views to prove to name the Claim of here ‘Whats’ right’! Angle arrogance, taking aim, first to Call and first to blame, first the truth that two wrongs make the Shaming game alright
Hunt and bludge the concept Common. A Failing Human satisfies The angry pundit’s feed. Intent on crash and burn, without
Reflection, do not learn, there's nothing like a crisis to nourish the Cynic’s spleen. Contract condition, call an internet fucked
Physician. Pick a position, post shit boosts and witty memes of Wisdom. Wonky logic without ration, casting cruel and cool
Reaction. Practice violence, gaslight parlance, fantasize a bad Boy’s dream
What point is ever proven, call down higher evolution
Conclusion! You’re still stuck here with us
Predictions, there are plenty, or fantastical delusions,
Still the endless void traps you! Stuck here with us!
What swims in shallow water, the alienation you harbor
Resist the coming closer. But you’re stuck here with us
Fortified, you florid abuser, the louder the truer
From pinnacle to sewer, oh well you're still stuck here
Spare me the ear-bending predictions
Spare me the apoplectic visions
Spare me the misanthropic
Tin-hat neurotic, flat-earth logic
Shattered facts, mendacious crap
Free vent without connecting
Nothing touching everything
Everything touches something
Touch something else
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2. |
Run Peter Run
05:16
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What are you running from?
What are you running for?
Away from something
Or swiftly towards
Sounds in different worlds
Starts or Ends with a gun
A problem child?
Or nurtured to run?
Speed scored medals
Standing delivers fame
A message in a moment
Black brighter than flame
A right act costs more
Conscience like a crime
Divisions laid open
Where is your line?
Run run Peter run
Run Peter run run
Run run Peter run
Run Peter run run
‘68 Olympic Game
Starter’s gun Outer lane
Silver race Winning fame
Dias rise Changing fate
‘68, Olympic Game, Starter’s gun, Outer lane, Silver race
Winning fame, Dias rise, Changing fate, Left and Right
Covered black, Centre stage, Won reward, Second step
Promise kept, Rising fist
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3. |
History of the Wall
02:07
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The East and West were never really split
A myth the wind calls that
In fearful times the binary lines,
Erected tall to hold you back
There’s telling in the yelling
Slander in a name
So what if you already lost it all
What matters most is whose skin is in the game
We call this the History of the Wall
Sold a lie, there just two side
For who then do the walls toll
The protocol of Us and Them
If you have to ask you’ll never know
Hold to hope, and see and what will be
Hold a rope and hope for open borders
At one end are the things that you flee
The other into danger, deeper water
Face-to-face with an aggressive gate
A gate is just a door into a Pen
The pen it’s said more savage than the sword
The keeper of the gate is not a friend
A friendly someone who's holding open space
Space is any place you can belong
Being without your back against the wall
Being without being being wrong
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4. |
Lips of Fish
03:51
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I’m determined to let you know of ‘He’ who signs his name
With fish . Salt lips impress a signature but the ink it never sticks.
This atmosphere is hard on gills, in fame quill found an early death
Submerged beneath a sea of air, Hey Fish! You trying to find your Breath? Fish carcass cast into the past, hold still for a passing selfie Snap. Halitosis grows with lies about bootstraps. Impact, disdain
Refrain, the same, the favoured hook smells of baited traps
And bait debate, let’s make a date and claim domain upon a map
The image no longer at the source, scratch and sniff lifts the stink of Ink, a picture reeks a thousand words and we get a sense of what you Think. Psychosis grows in droves, we cope, we stay in waves, we need A shrink! The sea, it bleeds, forgets to freeze, I think I need a drink!
Coarser tongues than mine agree that grin has a whiff of shit. We’re Suckered in, you suck and spin, your suckers grin, devout and proud Fuckwit. We fucked the Fish! Your salty lips, they shine malign
And wet with spit. We know you lie, and we don’t mind
It’s when your face splits
It’s an interesting story that he tells
Parallel, so close to the here and now
HELLo Circumstance with Capital HELL
Scant facts, rabid pack, bigots kiss and tell
It’s enticing in the message that he spins
Big grin, think you’re party to his win?
Making a killing, the killing makes the king
Hands up? Bad luck! Underfoot the ice is thin
Feel attractive on the way up on the make
Heart of slate, filth hides behind a gilded gate
Devoted profit, denote the road of endless take
Claim more. Fuck poor. Cashing in on righteous hate
I am talking to you
But that does not mean
We are talking
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5. |
Honey Brings the Flies
04:39
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Handsplain to the arms-end, Don’t call it hand, it’s a Body
Pointing to the obvious and barricades less facts circumvent
Quick reflex triggered fingers, pistol whip your first reaction
Palm off alt-deliverance. Who would bite a hand content?
I’m not looking for a blind side, I’ll not witness what is missing
Out of sight on leaps of faith, I hope for other than abyss
My comfort looks like confidence, am I flying? Am i in freefall?
Here’s the winking charlatan blows a one-eyed Judas kiss
Who smelt it first dealt it, it’s funny how the stink can stick
It knows of my anxiety, catastrophe and blame
Would you know if you’re off the scent?
Would you come up smelling roses?
We’re disordered by the odour setting free the lizard brain
Hear a whisper in the ether, sound appears on skin of drum
Chorus warns with worried words, I’ll take these words as fact
All theses echos all around me, no silence from the doublethink
Hissing earworm, endless tinnitus, reverberates unchecked
Take a lick, is it poison? Do I let it pass these lips?
Am I sated at the first taste? Do I crave the shit I eat?
Chewing more, it’s a practice. Will I swallow speaking tongues ?
What satisfies the appetite? Sweet and sour or deceit
‘You catch more flies with honey
quicker than with vinegar
but bullshit is better than both’*
*A Moore, Jerusalem
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6. |
OrangeTime
04:05
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All inside in the orange bright, can you feel the pressure
Fair enough to feel the fear, we can call this air depression
It’s a measure of your trust, present with this strangeness
Struggle strange in troubled times and live with pending danger
It’s all around and everywhere, a warning writ in orange light
On all fronts and on all borders, burning into sight
Hit the road and here we go, one way into orange time
High-viz bright in white hi-beam, shine on warning signs
That nearby near here danger looms. Or somewhere near here
just from sight. You think we should race the red? We gonna jump
that line? Uncertain is the only way. Certain has been compromised
Somethings breathing on our neck, it’s the future of our lives
Have you got the post-truth blues? Try post-natural selection
Everything has signs of use, thanks uneven big H human. Observe Record those bigger views, beauty scored for Mr Darwin. Now digging Wells, exhaustive fumes next to a rising plastic mountain. Clingfilm Wrapped the Holocene in carbon, and forever isotope. The past has Passed us like a dream, it seems the futures been rewrote. Once green For go, was safe in green, Orange warns us off on the ropes. Orange as
Anthropocene, beyond the noisy Hollywood tropes. Orange cones on Slips and cliffs, there’s danger waiting if you stray. Orange with a Stop/go stick, the folk who stand and show the way. Orange vests to Float and drift, to ride upon a deepest wave. Orange lines on bugs to Make you sick, a lick of poison you might taste. Orange hands
Wrapped round the helm, a captain worse than rabid drunk. Orange Flush but hint of flame, an orange sky holds panic’s hush. Orange
Rain to strip the skin. Orange ropes control the rush. Orange lights are Running red but we don’t seem to worry much ... worry much?
Have you got the post-truth Blues
Under clouds that spell ‘Confused’
Everything has signs of use
Use-by-dates in question to
Worldly-hurts a bitter proof
Hold on tight though getting bruised
In borrowed light of Orange Time
Hi-vis shines to guide you through
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7. |
Cut Hunter
04:42
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Red of the cut, cut becomes a scar
Scar remarks unheard, to the market, name it’s charge
To the belly of lesser beast, to meat at the feast
For the unbefore tasted, novelty to eat
Hunting Cut Hunter
It’s an art-form to be hidden out of sight in plain sight
That surgical precision to eye the prize to slice
The terminal of splitting that opens like a zip
The efforts earns the access, the knife’s a door that's quick
Hunting Cut Hunter
Demand stranger fare, safe practice becomes past
Supply lines cut deeper, global grows the grasp
Hunter turns to trader, trader turns to kitchen
to door, to cook, to pot, to plate, the recombinant admission
Cut the Cut Hunter
Sated states no colonist, hindsights shy’d lament
Jungles home to many teeth, whose here without defense
The Hunter becomes hunted, the cook becomes consumed
Blood from two into one, the wound becomes a womb
Haunted Cut Hunter
Cut the hunter
Hunt the cut hunter
The cut hunter
Haunts the cut hunter
The tongue is razor, exposed is a throat
Jettison your wisdom to the sacrificial escape goat
Profit holds a sword, clear felling serves a need
Doom scroll trickles down, infect the air that we breath
Haunts the Cut Hunter
Rewarded for a warning, it was a warning ignored
Ghostly in the whisper, that hints of discord
The hunter is hunted by the prey more than food
The city hunts excess like there's nothing here to lose
Haunts the Cut Hunter
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8. |
DRONEmusic
03:59
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Hanging on the cross will break the pattern
Draw attention from afar
Baptize troublemakers in their ashes
Incite rapture in a tiny star
Waiting for a bus and feeling nervous
Someone’s watching Rosa sitting there
At a job that's mostly boring
Till the targets sitting in crosshairs
Reaching up, her hand in Nana’s
The Reaper locks in on their stride
Lining up the cross on Whina
Collateral damage tallied for their side
Growing up in a poorer part of town
Locally, Lomu's hope was not so known
He’d pull a crowd, to the game
Send a Signature Strike, to shut it down
Martin had a dream and a need to speak
A way with words to avert the violence
The Predator locked on his open mouth
The microphone broke as cries filled the silence
River cools the feet of united voices
Gandhi hears a whine cutting through the din
Mozzie’s on the hunt for a feed
A Hellfire Missile turned it all to steam
Silhouette on the snow, it’s not a dove Put the Drone to work
There’s money to be made, infertile plains Put the Drone to work
Pull up the pegs, on Surveyor’s lines Put the Drone to work
Weaponise the laws, just point and shoot Put the Drone to work
On the land and in the sea, Everywhere and Everyhere
In the tech and In the fear, In atmos- and psychosphere
Mine the sky, mine the sky, mine the sky, mine the sky.
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9. |
Hūrrē
03:35
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Seems like every talking head, spinning clever, sing aloud
Every claim to speak, tongue in cheek for the silent crowd
Every point explored, cue applause and minds and hearts
Everything is black and white, twitter into bite-sized parts
Everything urgent, talk it up or talk it down
Everything matters, despite the fact that facts are known
Everything’s balance, depends in fact on who decides
Compassionate gaslight, say it’s nothing smile-wide
Every informed mouthpiece, filled your ears up with their junk
Every trusted mug, comforts drug, your brains drunk
Every reused excuse, adds authority, gospel proof
Fuckwit behaviour, be subjective with the truth
Seems like every expert here, with loud idea’s got it wrong
Every wise refrain on display and now it’s gone
Every balanced point, Mr Smartarse hits the mark
Every shred of ‘good advice’, there to prop the oligarch
It’s that thing your breath does when it's cold.
Born from your inner warmth, when the mercury’s low
Coming from your mouth, honest without sound
Here’s something I can trust, your tiny rising cloud
You’ve got a lot to say
For someone with not a lot to say
But never let facts get in the way
You say that you know
We doubt what’s below
Your hollow show
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10. |
M.O.A.B
03:53
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Act, distract all influential
By design and by degrees
Up on other shoulders climbing,
And the backs and knees brow-bent. Confidence belies content
Fickle grin, what’s Said not Meant. Measures made for outcome set
Dared, Mother bludgeons care’s pretense
Some things done by force, Some enforced in sneaky ease
Some applaud conspirators whose jobs to propagate dis-ease
‘Shock and Awe’ implore potential
Employ, deploy, these ‘Legal’ crime
Tough love’s easy unaccountable
Cut the bottom line like a throat. Divide, some Flourish and some Choke. Harden-hearts and chance and scope. Flaunt a sordid
Sense of fairness, like a whimsy, like a joke
Some hope is fragile thin, some broke bitter into time
Some recall rememberings, others slip from mind
Dive, Descend, to Great again, feather nests for fortune-favoured-Brave. Glib ab-[neo]lib, equality, the phrase is just a passing phase
Rise, Ascend, you bride of pay-off, the unseen hand waves, the market Saves. Fair-go for some, them ‘same’ again, long Mother MOAB’s mark Remains
Turn right to own your own exception
“...Ourselves as winners...” promised bold
Freed those benefits will trickle down
Like the golden rain of old prostate, Greed release without constraint
TINA means the future’s ‘Great’! When hand-to-mouth, what choice is spent? When coin’s a ghost, at Needs-not-met
Some sustain from warming rain, Some erosion from wet weight
Ruthless chew on threads undo
Mother’s shames like famed namesake
Mother delivers comfort, Mother delivers calm
Mother of all budget, Mother delivers harm
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11. |
Didn't
01:46
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We did not survive the ice age, the slave trade
Tall barricades, the trips across the sea
Floods in sudden flashes, the fanatic
The fascist, swinging ropes from bitter trees
Grand Deceptions, sacrificial actions
A thousand lies, the bloody victories
The cyclical invasions, the negative persuasions, fabricated histories
The thugs in ranks, the gangs of tanks, the crown of banks
The papal wanks, the menace of the Wall
Plagues of rats, racist attacks
The rationalized austerities to justify the cruel
Politics, the endless shit, devious tricks
The commentator’s coarse and caustic maul
The terrorizing pseudoscience of megalomaniac blind alliance
We did not survive the forest fires, the funeral pyres
The twisting bias, the gathering extinctions
Echoes of Endeavor, the arrivals, the denials
The Mythtaking and forgetting
Drowning shores, kill the poor, enforced by law
The either/or, the classical dissection
Venerated fantasies, amoral bankruptcies, corruptible erections
The triple fucks, Imperial time, border lines
Binding ties, your rights will be ignored
Driving snows, evicted homes, crushing loans
Tonight you sleeping in a shop front door
Union busting, children starving, the overcharging
Repeating hard work has its own reward
The dead-eyed cultish parasitic promise hardship without limits
We did not survive this
just to roll over
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skirted Records New Zealand
Home of skirted Records, stable of DSLB, vegetable.machine.animal, mr sterile Assembly and assorted side projects
skirted Records recommends:
Letting Light Into Winter
by Antony Milton
Spacious south Pacific Eno-esque night time music. Gentle and homely(as long as home is late, dark, fire-warmed & with whiskey in hand)
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Amazing label from Jogjakarta, Indonesia - a home of fascinating audio
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N'Djila Wa Mudujimu
by Lady Aicha & Pisko Crane's Original Fulu Miziki of Kinshasa
A gold mine!
go to albumIf you like HELLo, you may also like:
Sundae Painters
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supported by 4 fans who also own “HELLo”
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Real Folk: Lathe Cut Singles 1993-1997
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supported by 4 fans who also own “HELLo”
a singular experimental artistic vision. this collection is a worthwhile life experience!
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Ornamental Hermit
by Beige Banquet
Across their second full-length, the London post-punks offer up thrumming motoriks, industrial tones, and sullen sing-a-longs in abundance.
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