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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
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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
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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
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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”
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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”
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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
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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
released March 9, 2018