music made for healing

Game day rain

News of the Universe

our side of a split 7" coming out with Gunns s00n.

artwork by Killer Acid

Double Ride

modular synth navigation for object oriented ontologist to cruise the flat ontology

Out Here There Are No Stars

Modular synth navigation Charm City Space rock flat ontological noise

FORAGERS ON DUST PLANET

This is the companion modular synth treatment for our new album currently being recorded as well as a conceptual short expanded cinema film on out YouTube channel

LET GO EGO MOON

modular synth composing for our short films and companion record FORAGERS ON DUST PLANET ... RECORDING HAPPENING NOW IN BALTIMORE AT THE STUDIO OF THE WAKE UP

GIEDI PRIME

Cigarette ghosts swirl in midnight air,
Through neon wounds that never heal;
Your stubble scrapes my trembling lip,
Behind Saint Mark's, where shadows steal.

Down stairs slick with spilled champagne,
Past junkies trading winter coats;
The basement boys hold court tonight,
Among the needle-pricking notes.

You've got prison ink beneath your sleeve,
Three years in Chino, so you say;
Your tongue tells tales I half-believe,
Of wild fires and Frisco Bay.

The city's a whore we both have known,
Her pavements cracked like mirror-glass;
We slur our truths on a barstool throne,
While pretty boys in leather pass.

In bathroom stalls with graffiti wings,
You press me hard against the chrome;
Your switchblade smile while my heart sings
Of streets we both call home.

Legs entwined in a hissing bed,
We burn through hours in feral heart;
"I love you," gasped but left unsaid,
As sirens tear the dark apart.

Your track marks map forgotten towns,
Each scar a story never told;
While outside, dawn's gray glory crowns
Our shame in burning gold.

I breathe your name in each exhaled sigh,
A brutal lullaby—raw and high;
But starved for a fix, we devour what's nigh,
Bound by dark urges that lonely nights brew.

Come morning, we'll pretend to sleep,
Two strangers sharing borrowed sheets;
Each holding secrets we can't keep,
As daylight floods these crooked streets.

Legs entwined in a hissing bed,
We burn through hours in feral heart;
"I love you," gasped but left unsaid,
As sirens tear the dark apart.

Cigarette ghosts

At the International Crane Foundation, I listened to a woman describe the witnessing of a crane migration as a spiritual experience for her

in the crane room

Soccer Mommy - "Out Worn"
Taken from the upcoming album 'Collection', Out August 4th on Fat Possum Records.

Preorder: smarturl.it/SM.Collection

Soccer Mommy - Out Worn

Music inspired by the weird.  In the spirit of Marta Becket's Amargosa Opera house in Death Valley Junction, California. All music done in collaboration with the Healing Machine.