Check out my band! soundcloud.com/new-pioneers

Since 1988
He is still rooted to the ground. From a distance it would look as though he is simply sitting on the ground with his legs crossed. On a close examination, however, one would notice that where his legs touch, the skin has formed a union, creating a strange amalgamation of his lower body, growing into itself, an indistinct bulge of organic material, which has melded with the ground below. The man is clearly rooted. His mouth points skyward, his voice delicate and vital. He speaks of stories. To gather around a large fire, coming back from the hunt. With the children in the front row, the wise men tell the stories of the tribe. They are outlandish tales, mesmerizing and explanatory, they are not metaphors to be reconciled, with an undeniable importance among the tribe. He believes them, just as they are, they are true. The sun struggles in its heaves and drags towards the sky, we aid it with sacrifice. The rewards are plentiful. The animals are ranked according to importance, each representing a different realm, a different god. Some dwell among the white and wonderful mist, bringing water, dictating our nourishment. Each time it rains we give praise with lively chants, with tears of joy in our eyes. Each day is a miracle, the world is fantastic and higher forces are abundant, completely beyond any understanding yet through our stories, completely understood. This is the only way our lives can feel natural.


Mosquito’s acute, squeaky whisper tickles the ear. He sounds distinctly insecure as he interrupts the man. Mosquito starts slowly, poetically explaining that love is a lake, and when you throw a stone in it, it makes ripples in the water, and those ripples make waves. After another stone is thrown into the lake, the energy is combined. The lake glows, and colors spurt out from its center. They go as fast as shooting stars, and fly to the center of the universe, serving as the pump, spinning from the energy. Everything spins around the stars, until it all goes back into the lake, where it all becomes one single condensed ball, and then explodes back into a million colors all traveling faster than light, and energy. Mosquito speaks quickly now. He speaks of things like glowing spheres with chubby faces, smiling so big that their eyes look like squints. They have to squint because they are traveling faster than light, but they are smiling, they are happy. They form pairs, and grow fat, and fill with liquid until it seeps from their pouches, and drips on their siblings. Then they combine and transform until they have feathers and wings, and they swoop down to the valley below and watch over the plants and rivers. They put the raindrops in leafs, they put the sap in trees, and they return to the center of the earth, where they are embraced by thousands of little sparkling white dots. They eventually regain their strength they fly back to the hole where they were born. 

Albums available now at http://newpioneers.bandcamp.com.

For Beats, Guest Spots,music videos, and/or Booking email: dustinj.dybvig@gmail.com

New Pioneers of the Old World
STYHI

Brass Clouds is a multi-instrumentalist, composer, and producer. While assorting the spectrum of moods into over 10 releases they shape shift from mystical, deep sea, acid jazz into bright, kaleidoscopic neck-popping beats. His dexterity and extensive time in the studio germinates libraries of psychedelic sensory experiences. The intent is to craft a space to amalgamate soundscapes, dance, and introspection.
Licensing or booking at brassclouds@gmail.com

Greetings from Portland, Oregon!

For production & remix inquiries, or to return my lunch money: PoindexterForever@gmail.com

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