ironStare is part of my etherCore series.  Please leave a comment.

Taken from the Doxa album: https://pytchblend.bandcamp.com/album/doxa-this-is-ethercore-vol-1

Matters followed the usual routine -- crazy irresponsible blood months.  The approaching rain worsened; the wipers couldn't keep up.  She'd made good plans, she thought smugly, smiling tolerantly.  The gate's spiked iron railings, the impassive doorman's eye,

And there she was against the world.
Expecting him to meet her there, flanking the steps.
Swung her bag, the lock smashed.  The blur on the stair had gone.  Standing in front with his eyes screwed up as hard as he could –- hard dark eyes, not twinkling any more, turned from green to blue, hollow with terror.  He walked stiffly of fleshless suspicious face, an aberration, a large noisious void, round and round. Poisoned?  There was no way of telling, he walked quickly down the iron stairs sharp as knife blades with a loose and bottomless smoky smell.  Like a swarm of fireflys, a clang of metal, glass jingled under the light.  A quick stretch of the mouth, a falling back on the certainties.

Bemused - what did he mean?  Like a family, loyal, deserved to the alter.  Too late for wondering now  He followed her along the alleyway, up in one swallow.  He still could not see. broken glass voices squawked.  Dark except for the green glow, gulls on a rock, found some stairs and began to run down them.  500 giggling dismembered carcasses, ignored, bellowing, making faces, pointing.  Teaching them the rules, the rust streaked under the window.

Tinny blare of the television, washing fluttering in the warm wind.  Remembering to organise hers limp shirt, scrambled eggs, sickly-smelling cream.  The shower hissed on to order
a changing room - she found herself smiling back.

The phone began to ring, a foreign village on the far side of the world. 'Stupid woman', he said the language had a sort of authority, pleased him about telling me, half-by blood hands .  He stressed the photograph on the wall, cartoon-like in his mind then kissed her velvet-soft red lips stretched with enthusiasm hard and dry.

His mind was full of full of could happen next.


pytchblend - ironStare (entr'acte)

I'm a fairly angry Anarchist But, I Am More Professional & Targetted To What I Consider To Be The Sphere of Alternative Transcriptance & I've got attitude and little time for bullshit. I'd like to work on major projects and get things done. This fucking crazy World has me spinning. I'm sick to fucking death of complacency in people, it's shit!!


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Sketches from England's bleakly industrial biomechanical heartland.

Come with me now to the subconscious borderlands of sleep and wakefulness.  Explore the sensory phantasmata of hypnagogic dreamlets.  Feel static-like frisson sensations tingling down your spine.  Join me on the journey into the heart of etherCore.

Looking for missing tracks?  Check out my Bandcamp http://pytchblend.bandcamp.com/

All tracks are copyright; to include on your set, show, or production please get in touch.

Sometimes broadcast on RTÉ lyric FM's Nova show (Ireland), Berlin​ Community​ Radio, Beatnikradio (also in Berlin) and Radiophrenia (UK).

Words and noise.

Psychedelic Mind.

Email for more info,
Cheers x

Copywrite belongs to The Broken Opium Table.

Music devised and played by me.

Thanks for listening.

Much Love,
The Broken Opium Table x

Contact email:- opiumtable@gmail.com 

Twitter @opiumtab

every song a new adventure.
Dedicated to those who have heard it all.

Comme je Trouve... Take me as you find me. 
I stand at the edge of Europe. Ocean surrounds me. I catch the odd storm. 
There is no more.