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White Is Relic​/​Irrealis Mood

by of Montreal

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SuperflatPsyche
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SuperflatPsyche Started off liking a few of the songs, now I love the whole thing! Wonderful work! Favorite track: Sophie Calle Private Game/Every Person Is A Pussy, Every Pussy Is A Star!.
teal_cat
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teal_cat Super intriguing and fun! I’ve been listening for a few weeks now. I especially love Paranoiac Intervals and Soft Music/Juno’s Portraits of the Jovian Sky Favorite track: Paranoiac Intervals/Body Dysmorphia.
Beyr
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Beyr of Montreal doing their thing as usual. Largerly their most interesting work since Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer? Favorite track: Sophie Calle Private Game/Every Person Is A Pussy, Every Pussy Is A Star!.
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1.
trolling on the DM, you don’t know me though had you on my lips again,you don’t know me though i don’t need to girlfriend,you don’t know me though wrecked another weekend,you don’t know me though soft music drains the oxygen from besieged Bushwick streets reflexively retching Anglo influx though there will be no gentrificating our graffitied warship of summer love it’s hard to stop the triggering of one’s self destructive urges i liberated you twice, you don’t know me though you’ve become my only vice,you don’t know me though i’m not wired to be nice, you don’t know me though Imma Imma sacrifice, you don’t know me though i’d been abandoned when you nursed me on my swerve I made my anti-drug being your loyal perv I became the holiday i need you to observe i give you devotion that i’m hoping you deserve i guess redemption is my ultimate turn on this reclamation has got me trying to prove the needle never slides off of the groove soft music drains the oxygen from besieged Bushwick streets of white flight in reverse on the crest of their vaporwave on intersectional highs and usurpation lows it’s hard to stop the impact of one’s offensive ways soft music drains the oxygen from besieged Bushwick streets reflexively retching Anglo influx though there will be no gentrificating our graffitied warship of summer love it’s hard to stop the triggering of one’s self destructive urges purgatory at Hartsfield awed by Juno’s photos of the Jovian sky
2.
Ha Ha They're drugging us that's how we are here in the fogs murder of faces in din of prosaic analogues you're the only one with any shock of animation, you're the only one who's worthy of my concentration I had to draw a line in my life there's those I have time for there's those I don't what's up with you? you're such a power, I wanna give you my 25th hour 3,600 seconds just for us, I'm being serious I'm really curious are you afraid? or just don't dare? or just don't wanna? or just don't wanna? kissing you on Pike and Bellevue Ave then a quick one at the Roosevelt while Steven was waiting counting wolves in your paranoiac intervals, nobody's sleeping nobody's off the beat you shouldn't try to unpeel my Pavlovian bells, you should be fucking with no one else anyone but me is an antipathy, anyone but me is just your enemy only I see you the way you want to see yourself, you should be fucking with no one else Ha Ha They're drugging us that's how God gets inside the head making you feel like it was you saying the things it said the signifiers have no value for us anymore, death is reunion though we've been over all this before a blushing Christian-bot is something I am not, i could teach you a lot, I think you'd learn a lot are you afraid? or just don't dare? or just don't wanna? or just don't wanna? counting wolves in your paranoiac intervals, nobody's sleeping nobody's off the beat you shouldn't try to unpeel my Pavlovian bells, you should be fucking with no one else anyone but me is an antipathy, anyone but me is just your enemy only I see you the way you want to see yourself, you should be fucking with no one else counting wolves in your paranoiac intervals, nobody's sleeping nobody's off the beat you shouldn't try to unpeel my Pavlovian bells, you should be fucking with no one else I am tripping out on all your future shock, i am tripping out on all your body rock only I see you deeper than you see yourself, you should be fucking with no one else now the anxiety is my one source of energy,although it is so wasteful keeping all of it inside of me i feel i feel like it is such a cruelty to be made self aware of actualization inside of the simulation i know how it feels, feels feels ugly, body dysmorphia, i know how it feels, body dysmorphic body dysmorphia body dysmorphia
3.
did it happen the way we wanted? maybe not maybe I love you like I love myself, not a lot I didn’t call you, I didn’t have to, It’s not like I forgot Maybe I need you like this conversation, not a lot Don’t complain about your personal hell you should be grateful you don’t have to share one naturally you’re starting to burn though writing the circles of your Inferno this acute loneliness that you feel has nothing to do with other people a foundational flaw, I wish you could understand is really the issue don’t look so thrown don’t look so ruined don’t look so distraught maybe i help you like your education, not a lot
4.
fucked in your driveway of pejorative outreach outliers and transgenic operatives ascetic dandy send don’t care captions no creation/no infinite regress nostalgia fists disposable outcomes churning desperation bliss Hydeaus hertz of libido squawking no creation/no infinite regress Acyanoblepsia, or is it only a phase? how long will you stay impressed by this precariat? in the embrace of anodyne writer’s block we feel Orgone energy better I want our new love to stay pure i don’t want to make you insecure if we put our ear to the ceiling we can hear the government breathing we can hear the dark matter breeding “making party” if we put our ear to the ceiling we can hear the multiverse seeding, we can hear the simulation wheezing “making party” lunging wrecks of forced abstraction crying for she who only ashtrays both hands on amphetamine solutions repetition/tension idée fixe making a sport of body pollution evening’s agenda stable tv computer fetus leaking of sadness no creation/no infinite regress in fine mist of dune braid, strangers go touch free on the plane, starvation of what we can hear, the plateau phase of you being near always such an effort oh shut up i want to get to know you even better, listen to your enemies parch the swoon to your hysterical arch if we put our ear to the ceiling we can hear the government breathing we can hear the dark matter breeding “making party” if we put our ear to the ceiling we can hear the multiverse seeding, we can hear the simulation wheezing “making party”
5.
waking up to your compliment makes suicides sex positive it’s good for us depressives to keep someone else alive there’s hatred at the window try not to be distracted we two subjective cameras blinking truths at each other it’s not an act of aggression it’s getting to know you and my tea leaves predicted and April 2nd lover now I marvel at the find of you and it’s very very kind of you to shake my kitchen into breaking the vow ‘cause i believe in you somehow take this too far so we can see if it is far enough i should move slower but the last year has been kind of rough our paths are checkered, i don’t care about that kind of stuff, I have to trust the optics of you i’ll never make you feel you a contact low I was looking at you thinking “fuck, i’ve fallen in love” I want to study you like a Sophie Calle “private game” your eyes are citrine ‘cause you’re goals, they’d be fierce if you were cruel, they’d be cruel if you were nice but not that into us i’m feeling less ugly now like you beautify me like being in your vision brings people benedictions now i marvel at the find of you and I hope you’re not the kind of you that makes me suspicious i am feeling superstitious, my wanting you is so vicious let’s… take this too far so we can see if it is far enough i should move slower but the last year has been kind of rough our paths are checkered, i don’t care about that kind of stuff, I have to trust the optics of you he said talk to her dark habits trying to protect you from the ways that evil says “I Love You” every time you take a breath the simulation’s breathing too you read Sappho beating her deep sea drum you whispered “don’t be vulgar” while i was making you come oh it’s high contact we stayed up past the dawn watching early Almodovar every person is a pussy every pussy is a star oh it’s high contact trying to protect you from the ways that evil says “I Love You”
6.
if you talk to symbol tell her i’ve moved on, i’m ghosting her ‘cause i want it to be over we had our laugh, we had our smile, i guess i know that i’m wrong if she asks, tell her i’m back at home, mostly alone in destructive thinking erasing plans erasing us, i guess i know that i’m wrong when things are too nice for too long i lose myself i lose my what’s good want to lash out want to blow things up again i want to blow them up now i want to blow them up again when we made love i gave you a pet name, that didn’t mean i wanted you to be my dog needing someone is such a weakness, i guess i know that i’m wrong when things are too nice for too long i lose myself i lose what’s good want to escape want to blow things up again i want to blow them up now i want to blow them up again if you talk to symbol, tell her i’ve moved on, i’m ghosting her ‘cause i want it to be over needing someone is such a weakness, i guess i know that i’m wrong thinking of you in the anarchist zone, shooting rockets at a drone, trigger bombs with your flip phone kissing girls of broken glass, washing off the Sarin gas, kill the rats close the gates erase the United States from your head alone again with the letter never sent and me like a swan with a broken neck who keeps singing even though anyone would hate to hear it’s song i’ll read the letter aloud and then burn it, yes i know way too much now to unlearn it, teach yourself how to make love and then earn it see me spark a personality flare, breeding a style nobody would wear, i’m such a mongrel i don’t really care thine eyes say “god i’m not into this yet”, thine eyes say “kitty fly into my net”, it’s all being recorded how could we forget i’ve been in the cache where your memories are stored, it’s shocking how little in life we’re adored, if we weren’t filming ourselves we’d get bored there is no anger, no i’m not as fragile as before i’ve decided not to be a voyeur of this war alone again with the letter never sent and me like a swan with a broken neck who keeps singing even though anyone would hate to hear it’s song

about

Two important events occurred during the making of White Is Relic/Irrealis Mood. I became "Simulated Reality" paranoid and I fell in LOVE.

Well a lot more happened during the process of writing and recording, but those are the two big ones. I also reached a healthy point of self-forgiveness for my failed marriage and became deeply educated in the lies of America the Great.

I feel like a switch was recently turned on in my brain and now I'm beginning to see through the lies that have been fed to me my whole life by the masters of media and by those who control and manipulate the narrative of our cultural identity and social order.

My paranoia began during the presidential election cycle and reached a dangerous peak shortly after the inauguration. In the meantime I watched and read countless works of art in a mad effort to be reminded of how many truly brilliant people there are living/struggling among us and to try to maintain a positive outlook. The works of Angela Davis, Noam Chomsky, Chris Kraus, Ta-Nehisi Coates, and the Autobiographies of Malcolm X and Mark E Smith were all great inspirations, to name a few.

Musically, I was very inspired by the extended dance mixes that people used to make for pop singles back in the ‘80s. It's so cool how a lot of the 80's hits had these really intricate and interesting longer versions that wouldn't get played on the radio and could only be heard in the clubs. I used that template with these tracks, I wanted them all to feel like the extended "club edit" of album tracks.

I also decided to abandon the "live band in a room" approach that I had been using on the recent albums and work more on my own or remotely with collaborators. I used the same drum sample packs throughout because I wanted the album to have a rhythmic continuity to it. I wanted the drums to have a strong and consistent identity, similar to how Prince's Linn Electronics LM-1 drum machine played such an important role on his classic albums. Zac Colwell also played a huge role on this album, adding saxophones and synths to most of the songs. I also got a lot of help from long time collaborators, and "of Montreal" touring members, Clayton Rychlik and JoJo Glidewell.

The two title concept came to me when I was thinking about how difficult it is to frame the message of a song with just one title, because so often the songs are about so many different subjects. ‘White Is Relic’ was inspired by James Baldwin’s writings regarding the creation and propagation of a toxic American White identity. I've come to learn how it's just a tool wielded by the 1% to give poor white people a false sense of superiority in an effort to keep the masses placated and numb to how deeply we're all getting fucked by our capitalist rulers. An ‘Irrealis Mood’ is a linguistic indicator that something isn't yet reality but does have the potential to become so.

I'm always searching for new identities so this concept of the death of "Whiteness" appeals to me greatly. Might be the only way to save the world.

-Kevin Barnes, January 2018

credits

released March 9, 2018

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