Discreet Services

Gag Order

The Burning Spear (Sonic Youth Cover)

The gaudy horror of the amp light
With the coming tide of dawn
You’re alright

Hello?
Who’s there?
When does it get better?
What do you want now?
I need you to not be here right now for this
With the shallow urgency of meaning
And the typological demeaning
And the body horror of the evening

When do you want from me?
“Shake it off with a stick,” he said

Sinking at the arena x2

The body horror of the evening
And the common horror of the creeping
With the coming tide of dawn
You’re not right

Ramp it up from here

Live in Reverse

Unsettled

Can’t
See
Can’t see
The gas

Faint
Hint
Faint hint
Of sandlewood

Would
You
Would you
Stand back please

Winding down
Zipping up
Send a line
To the host

Send us all
To our rooms
Line me up

Break us all
Into bits
Bite my tongue

Tongues are for
Working class
Fodder

Won’t
You
Won’t you
Hold this

Hold
Me 
Hold me
Down tight

Shake
Strap
Supine
Rising up

Slip
Into
The line
Of sight

Send us all
To our rooms
Line me up

Break us all
Into bits
Bite my tongue

Tongues are for
Working class
Metaphors

Note to the
Editor
Last word

Soft Evils

I watched a spark just the other day
I saw it jump in 4K 
I felt the ember next to me
The carpet went up 
In flames
Alarm set off
The power
Off won’t work, won’t work

I called the firefighters 
No one’s here
This place is burning down
The screen won’t quit

I saw a spark just the other day
I watched it all in 4K
I saw an ember fly
Fly into my mouth

It went down 
My throat, my throat
It rested
In the deepest depths of my bowels

I called the doctor 
No ones here
This place is burning down
The screen won’t quit

Fireplace In 4k

When you sleep
And you drool
Dont come home
To find it there
Burn the rugs
Burn the stand
Burn it all
And pick it up
Pick it up
Pick it upppp

The difference is dark, like a black hole
Enveloping and consuming
Retching because you are there
Fingers warm and cold breath lie

Send my love
Across the screen
Make it ooze
Make it sneeze
Burn the rugs
Burn the stand
And dont come back
To find it there
Pick at it
Pick it up
Pick at it  
And pick it up

The difference is dark, like a black hole
Enveloping and consuming
Retching because you are there
Fingers warm and cold breath lie

Sewer Bells

I can’t hold the patients at the door
I can’t see the world sit in the sink
I wanna see the vessel in the sand
I want a map of humankind in my hand

I’m not responsible for the war
Were all responsible for the war

Nothing tastes as good as being thin
Nothing feels as loving as the wind section

Time
It’s a hell of a drug
Ghosts
Their a hell of a drug
The valley
It’s a hell of a drug

Tied

Wanna come home
Shake down
Send help

Wanna send out
Shake-waves
Send help

Wanna wake up
Inside
Slick line

When you lay down next to it
Don’t forget the shaking ship

Wanna stick out
My thumb
Lend help

Wanna punch through
That line
Slick line

Don’t wanna stand through
This song
Send help

Don’t wanna sit through
This song
Send help

When you lay down next to it
Don’t forget the shaking ship
I can hear it in my face
Look away and stand in place

Never gonna get back into the deep fryer now

Shaking Ship

When the alphabet was lean
And the trail led to the weir
On the edge of 17
On the ledge, you set me free

When the amplitude fought back
You were sitting in the sand
Take a look inside of me
Take a look inside of me

When the lights dont show their fear
And the stains of all the tears
On the edge of 33
Dont throw away another day

When the altitude fought back
You were humming in the black
Take a look inside of me
Take a look inside of me

When the amplitude fought back
You were sitting in the sand
When the altitude lost track
You were daring at, staring at me
Take a look inside of me
Take a look inside of me

End Trails

When the days go dripping by 
I cede my vanity
And the eyes go slipping through 
I seed my garden bed
When the sprockets in your eyes 
Glean to me I bend 
And the pockets in our minds 
Will to find the jump 

I don’t know who you are 
Why can’t I shake the thought?
I don’t know who you are 
Why don’t we take a look

Holy Ollie

I don’t see why you have to go
We can’t stay in this type of time anymore
When the lever hits I can’t cry anymore
Why does the earth sit and wait on the plane?

Is the quick painted red in your dreams?
Why is this lottery on everyone’s scent?
We are one and a half in the sun
We are 3 in the pottery run

When I get the urge to walk in reverse
And the lopsided fountain comes  to the purse

Step inside and take a slip
This house is imperfect
It sits on a sink
I saw my future son
In the green, green jungle
Wearing a bandana

I don’t feed you 
I don’t feed you well

Feed

And I won’t 
Eat chalk

And I won’t
Leave pock

And I won’t 
Stand guard

And he won’t 
Seat death

Animals

When I play
At night

And the sauce
Meets space

When I play
At night

And the sound
Is right

Animals

Rub In The Salt

When you head to the store
Pick me up some yellow

Why coming home to it?
The ghost is slit
Come home to me
The scene is free x2

It’s always in your hands x2
Send your antidote to me x2

Come home to it
The ghost is slit
Come home to me 
The scene is free x2
But the act will cost you so

You’re always in my head x2
I’m looking at my mark

Ghost Is Slit

Letgo
What are you doing here?
Jet lag
What is there left to fear?
Water
Drips into the tub
Blood
Hangs from a bag up there

And the oculus
That we found that day
And we’ll never speak
When our mouths are stitched
What a slime that day
We just had to seek
And the occupants
Reached the text

The Crux

A Strange Day (Cure Cover)

MALLSEX is a Vancouver-based, post-punk band.

Formed in 2018 out of a mutual love of noise and synthesizers, MALLSEX combines elements of punk, art-punk, shoegaze, darkwave and noise.

Feeling strange and anxious about the state of the world, we (Ladder) filter that feeling into a pummeling attack of guitars and pads. The world is slanted and teetering. We need to shake your mind and your body.

Join us, and bring ear tissue.

We are MALLSEX.

PostPunk / DarkWave / Experimental

Analog. Digital. Synthetic. Authentic. 100% real juice – not from concentrate

Sean Kenny – Vox, Synths
Stuart Galloway – Vox, Guitars, Synths

Written, produced and performed by MALLSEX © 2018 - 2023

MALLSEX

Popular tracks