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Open to Suggestion

by SMEs-21

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You are a metal can, rubber band, wrong handstand, a garbage van Chicken claw, broken door, the Second Law, a fucked seesaw A suggest kind, a double bind, an earthworm blind, go get behind A mangled thing, the untuned sing, a wristy wring, a busted string You oversleep, try hard creep, an anxious leap, no clean start sweep Or lordly bored, on cue reward, clipped manicured, the attendant chord That snidey line, your leaking brine, pearls and swine, the arsehole shines Oh golden toast, oh want for most, no holy ghost observes such boast You will resonate, conned by fate, your weighty freights past used by date The red you bleed, the greed you feed, a nose knows speed, procure proceed in bloody bond, do duck inbound, the lies the sound, what no lost in found? The rockstars grope, hell sells hope, its just a rope between you and slope First there was the song, then the word, then the earth and then the birth Of entangled lots, atomic clots, a fractions clock it’s all we got
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St Ninny 02:48
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Roaring with a million voices. It roars with the peristaltic surge of scooters like sparrows swimming like fish in a flock. At peak times the deep belly growl Is the environment. It is the thing! It is impossible to digest, and easy to feel consumed when traveling with a more timid disposition. Because it eats, to the background speakers of midnight street-side eateries play gamelan and grindcore. It nibbles at your skin with the sawing tickle of the resident mosquito. Pray the demon Dengue is not near by. Anoint yourself with the ointment of protection of Saint DEET. It is haunted. He says he can only sleep after the half four morning prayer as that’s when the ghosts in the night settle. He has two rooms at home. In one, the light has been on since the earth tore 13 years ago, never turned off, never changed, illuminated, it is a lit messenger, as a bulb possessed, He doesn’t go into that room any more. It is inhabited by ghosts. He could do something about it but seems content to let them be. The bigger concern is the lingering spirit of the baby found dead on the river out the back of his house the day before. Spirits dwell in the curve of the river, attention must be paid for seven days. Who owns the baby? Who will pay reverence? That is a worry Overhead it is febrile. It is dry, unlike its’ humid siblings to the north. Sweeting, Im aware that it is indifferent to me, it is impossible to reciprocate that sentiment.

about

Written and recorded by Mr Sterile & Mr Snakes between May and August 2021. Recorded in Wellington, New Zealand and Suva, Fiji.

Joint release by Circuit 47 & skirted Records

Please check out other audio and visual project of Mr Snakes at circuit47.com

skirted 21

credits

released August 29, 2021

All instruments mixing, messing around by Mr Snakes & mr sterile

Additional voices:
Fergus McPherson Collinson Vocals on track 2 recorded on evening having dinner at the sterile pad
rip pal!
www.opportunityarts.org.nz/fergus

EE Monk on track 5

The live-streamed recording of Vinnie Eastwood pre-Level 4 lockdown on track 4, and while being arrested at an anti-lockdown 'protest' on track 10.

All other vocals from Snakes, sterile or field recordings.

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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

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