all tracks (c) polymorph records

all tracks produced by bryar herrick aka polymorph

Experiments in electronic redundancy recorded in various residences, venues and motel rooms with bare essentials, in strange situations, with strange company and an always altered consciousness.

It's here where we develop our techniques in mind control. Just remember, it only feels like you are dying. That dead of winter in your bones will slowly fade and soon you'll be wrapped in the warm song of static and test tones broadcast from the furthest regions of the Inbetweens directly into your headphones. I'm so glad you are here.

download the album 42 here: http://polymorph.bandcamp.com/album/42

Essential Morphisms

Thanks to Indoszfera for letting me sample his field recordings.

I am pretty sure you are a chemical robot

aliengorillavagina

Thanks to Ive T. for the wicka wicka wicka

Schnitzelplacebo

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Ｐ Ｔ Ｓ Ｄ

habitual line stepper - line one

I RLLY DONT

Wake up

the dewberry plantation guards - 2016 edit (demo)

actual replication (from the pirate radio tapes)

Laura Palmer's Theme from Twin Peaks in the style of the Stranger Things theme song. EDIT: To download this song, go to our Bandcamp: https://promqueenband.bandcamp.com

STRANGER PEAKS

"where the days are all night"

produced by el-p
additional guitar by matt sweeney
additional keys by nick hook
mixed by joey raia
mastered by joe laporta

Stream digging for windows
  spotify:  http://smarturl.it/dfwspotify
  apple music:  http://smarturl.it/dfwAppleMusic
  deezer:  http://smarturl.it/dfwDeezer
  google play: http://smarturl.it/dfwGooglePlay

Connect:
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Thanks to the late Manuel Alvarez Bravo for creating the cover art photo “Fireworks for the Infant Jesus”, 1990 (Castillo en el barrio del Niño), by Manuel Álvarez Bravo (c) Copyright 1990 Archivo Manuel Álvarez Bravo, S.C.


fuck that bright shit
the spot or the flashlights 
we in la ducking both 
in the shadows with lead pipes 
the days are all night

see if i pay edison
no medicine
these blues ain’t more better when
my fever rise in the jungle 
as quick as the price spikes
the days are all night

my future snapped like a rubber band
off my fold on a hand to hand
he drew from his waist
i put two in his roof
and i can still hear his screams 
all night 

now they ride their portfolios 
like rodeos
rise every time my cherry glows
on the end of my cig as 
the smoke blows through the bars
and the co’s laugh fades
as he strolls away 
says i gotta pay 
off that roll away 
or its fuck your visitation days
and i pop off so in solitaire 
i dream of offing these fred astaires 
and the skin off my fingers tear 
we digging for windows here 
where the days are all night 

this city’s a trap my partner
under the lights of they choppers
bodies tools for they coffers
not worth the cost of our coffins
i stare at a future so toxic
no trust in the dust of a promise
won’t mark the name on a ballot
so they can be free to devour our options 
and just like you I’m a target
ill defined by the guap in my pocket
but the stage make figures 
as quick as it off em 
what marley  and pac get? 
i put these caps in capitals 
leave minds blazed in they capitols 
i step with a fury so actual fact 
that my offense could be capital 

we digging for windows here


digging for windows (single)

digging for windows

spence olchin

a distant center mass

gestation

a master of transition in an attempt to be basic combines electronic redundancy with imagination and clever technique.

experiments in electronic redundancy, breaks, and audio sculpture recorded in various residences, venues and motel rooms with bare essentials, in strange situations, with strange company and an always altered consciousness.

no filter. simplicity rules. less is more.

actual replication (from the pirate radio tapes)

Polymorph

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