WL//WH - FEBRUARY 2021 \\ Post Punk/ Coldwave/ Darkwave/ SynthPop/ Minimal Synth

https://whitelight-whiteheat.com/playlist/wl-wh-weekly-post-punk-darkwave-dark-synth-tips-09-21/

WL//WH - FEBRUARY 2021 \\ Post Punk/ Coldwave/ Darkwave/ SynthPop/ Minimal Synth

Early November

Abigail

this is your life 
your perfect face 
these shades of grey 
uncertain trace 
within your self you might know need 
this blood is real will dry will dry 
is this your cry? 
we’ll be your tongue 
you list your needs 
will try 
will try 
will try

A PERFECT BODY

A 4 Track Postpunk EP produced in our Living room

Ecdysis

BLOODLETTING

VIOLENTIA

I DONT HATE

Milky's Way Out

Huge thanks to https://soundcloud.com/utopiafade for this collaboration, for the artworks and amazing samples that inspired the build.🙏🏼💜🎶✨ 
This track was mastered by Utopia Fade😁

Thank you for listening  💙

Infinite Skies w/Utopia Fade [Original]

Criminal

Give Something

Like a Father

MUSIC VIDEO: https://youtu.be/twpLyDgvPk4

Be in the way 
It's electric shock
Remember the time 
You knew it would work
You've been a dirty little liar
It's mine now.
You live a dirty little life
You will never be mine now

I won 
This game
You called
Drying up
I saw the same
It broke him
That man

You lose in me
You're running away

When you touch me
I feel like I'm dying now
When you touch me 
It's like the world disappears now

It's like overload of life 
And that's the way that I like it
It's like the fire in me 
Get's you over the wire

I let you dream for years,
You dream about your dream
But what about me
What about my dreams

I won 
This game
You called
Drying up
I saw the same
It broke him
That man

You lose in me

___________________

Amiture is a New York City musician and filmmaker. Having grown up in the American South, his story begins in the heavy, humid air of Virginia and finds itself now in the vaporized bodily aether of the New York dance floor. This perspective is conveyed in his music with a certain darkness, narrative patience, and indeterminacy. Images of love, loss, and desire puncture the danceable rhythms and lend an emotional consistency that carries the listener through his debut record, The Beach.

Amiture is pleased in conjuring a sonic world that can appear veiled—and even playfully illegible. His character is that of a narrator condemned to give form to a series of events that may bear no meaning in their association, but all of which are packed tight with emotion, interest, and memory. He keeps his own dignity by taunting the listener, but only a little bit. The Beach pursues this meandering expressivity with grace.

In his prior musical work, Amiture used his given name, Jack Whitescarver. Under this name, he spent about two years touring the music that would become The Beach along with his older catalog of sparse, experimental, and sometimes humorous music. The songs that make up Amiture’s debut took their form in front of live audiences that placed what-would-become-Amiture’s music in the worlds of acts like Pelada, Kedr Livansky, and Minimal Violence.

Listening to the music & lyrics of The Beach is like using a fading flashlight to illuminate a cave—where one is unsure of whether they are on their way out or if they are just getting deeper. This journey, however, is reprised and explored with club beats, pop melodies, and a production fidelity that couples creative ambition and spatial darkness in ways not unlike the baroque pop masterpieces of late 1960s Scott Walker. The Beach can be a pop album or it can be a broody meditation—this choice is up to the listener.

The music of Amiture also have a filmic quality to them, one that adds a VHS sheen to the diaristic aura of this body of songs. The tracks “Touch,” “The Beach,” and “Let’s Talk" display this characteristic best. On “The Beach,” Amiture sings, “And I’m staring out that window out at the sea—There I see the rare reflection of you and me—The dog is racing down from the other side of the hill.” It is in the simultaneity of feeling and image that Amiture’s music feels born of a cinematic instinct—nothing is explained but everything is on display.

Amiture’s sound exists in the vast in-betweens of Kate Bush and Suicide, or Throbbing Gristle and Prince. It nods to contemporary club, dance, & sound music while paying homage to melody and lyricism. The Beach, however, is not an attempt at staking a flag in some unknown sonic universe, either. The textures, lyrics, and imagery are indeed referential, but they aim to be so in such a way that deepens the listener’s aesthetic & emotional understanding of said references. This is an album that unearths the roots systems of meaning of seemingly familiar plant life—but these revealed limbs may leave more questions than they give answers. The Beach is a reminder that even universal feelings can appear more alien than familiar under close inspection.

The Beach

Touch

Someone Is You (demo version - EP out now)

A special thanks to Marie from Grabyourface for her prompt collaboration and her majestic French vocals.  

Mix & Mastering: Joshua A. Pfeiffer

Waiting for a tragedy, 
Looping into anomy, 
A desert beyond recognition. 

Conquering, an iteration
Be divided, no salvation, 
Inward calling to descend. 

Insatiable hunger
Will tear us asunder
To prey and consume
Behold the doom. 

Combien de lunes peut-on attendre?
Combien de peaux doit-on comprendre?
Car la pierre te grignote,
Et l'écran te réconforte,
Combien de lunes peut-on attendre? 

How many nights will we live by
This game we didn't want to try? 
As the stone still devours
And a screen counts the hours
Combien de lunes peut-on attendre? 

Faces melting into one, 
No rest till this work is done, 
A self deceiving ecstasy. 

Power struggle, no completion
Abuse fosters repetition 
Pleasuring the unknown. 

The stone will end the chain, 
This loss is no one's gain, 
Be prey, be consumed, 
Be prey of whom? 

Combien de lunes peut-on attendre?
Combien de peaux doit-on comprendre?
Car la pierre te grignote,
Et l'écran te réconforte,
Combien de lunes peut-on attendre? 

How many nights will we live by
This game we didn't want to try? 
As the stone still devours
And a screen counts the hours
Combien de lunes peut-on attendre?

Spoken - from Herzkranzgefäß by Heiner Müller 

Gewitter im Gehirn  
(Storm in the brain) 
Blei in den Adern  
(Lead in the veins)

Was du nicht wissen wolltest, 
(What you didn't want to know)
Zeit ist Frist
(Time is a term)

Die Bäume auf der Heimfahrt
(The trees on the way home)
Schamlos grün
(Shamelessly green)

Early November

Mistress

Recent comments

LiuNns

Bejing

Panda._

Panda._

Related tracks