Abbey © 2014 by travis.djPTSD // (Ruth 3:6-14)
RUTH laying low in the Abbey
No place left to go  (2X)
     Saints down South in the threshing house 
     Can’t wait for me to die; can’t wait to Free the Po-Po.
KITTY took the crow to the mortuary
FRI night fist fights and then the talk show  (2X)
     Saints down South in the bathhouse
     Cock half a dozen Glocks for the overthrow
             Dark meat country heat no outlet
             Dead load on the road no regret
EVE conceived in the Abbey
No seeds left to sow  (2X)
     Saints down South in the threshing house 
     Burn down the Abbey!  Po-Po status quo.
             Abbey Confessor:  Come!  Greet the fleet
            TV Set suffragettes pray at your feet

Abbey

UK Border Diocese

Steven Curtin & Cy Tulip Live @ Trumbullplex 01/26/17

Supplicate

https://ono1980.bandcamp.com/album/red-summer

It’s been “Red Summer” for over a hundred years. While the term “Red Summer” typically refers to the race-driven violence in the Summer of 1919 across the United States, its repercussions, its vocabulary can be felt or heard on every corner of every street. In Chicago, it has a special significance, as Chicago was one of two catalysts for that era’s violence, exploded by invisible racial borders along the South Side, a phenomenon that exists today, constantly considered by long-running gospel industrial band ONO.

ONO bandleader P Michael Grego and frontperson travis had met before 1980, sharing a love for written and spoken word, the transcendent, and the genuine. Through continual poking and prodding, P Michael convinced travis to join him in ONO, the name coming from shortening “onomatopoeia,” and underscoring a desire to create “noise not music.” P Michael would handle the audio. travis the words. Since January 5, 1980, ONO’s roster has changed drastically, but always fiercely defended a singular construct: “The ONO STATEMENT OF PURPOSE: Experimental Performance, NOISE, and Industrial Poetry Performance Band; Exploring Gospel's Darkest Conflicts, Tragedies and Premises.”

ONO began Red Summer in 2015 and finished three years later. It is a record about Chicago, racial violence, and the long arm of history, starting with events as distant - and relevant - as 1619, the year the Dutch ship Pearl filled with African slaves appeared on the American East Coast. This is where the record begins - the unsettling, carnivalesque overture “20th August 1619.” Frontperson Travis begins “SOLD! 23 ‘Negars!’ N-E-G-A-R-S!! FIELD ‘Negars’ good as Gold!  Money down!”

It’s a jarring moment, but what’s not jarring about the arrival of slavery? Ono frequently packages disturbing lyrics or content into absurd, even catchy songs. Take the groovy funk track “I Dream of Sodomy,” an ONO live staple for nearly six years. P Michel’s earworm bassline is a persuasive siren, so much so that when the chorus - “I Dream of Sodomy” repeated multiple times - hits, somehow it’s hard not to sing along. On this song, travis meditates on his Black and Native American heritage, Haitian reparations, and sexual abuse at the hands of a commanding officer in the Vietnam era while he served in the U.S. Navy.

Other songs like “Coon” transform from glacial, elegiac mood-pieces into danceable numbers, all the while musing on racial violence in the U.S. history and militarism. “Early morning, greasy spoon,” travis incants for the chorus. “Possum fat for the hainty coon” before shifting the song’s narrative to a Lockheed U-2 reconnaissance aircraft and the potential for a [Future] all-Black NSA/SAC U-2/SR-71 fighter squadron that turns revolutionary mid-flight!

Though Red Summer is named after a specific era, it explodes temporal constraints, necessarily so. As is made clear in books like Claire Hartfield’s A Few Red Drops and Cameron McWhirter’s Red Summer, these things are hard to bookend. Racial violence occurred before the Red Summer, and it is still occuring now - systemically, to boot.

We hope that this record instills a need to learn, to study, and functions as an inlet into something much bigger.

ONO - I Dream Of Sodomy

You're my pizza mama

Taken from the God Bless the Death Drive LP (PP45)

Literally taking off where the acclaimed Precious Waste in our Wake LP finished off, London based outfit Triple Negative return with another exemplary amplified jigsaw puzzle. The playback of this reality is garnished with humour, bedlam, beauty and a robust fear of the predictable. As payback for your acknowledgment our international line-up deliver a disparate mix of genres and histographies rendered into a devious dish of rhythm, song, balladry and nerve. 
 
This is Not This Heat.  A.Kostis/Kostas Bezos’ ‘Stin Ypoga’ (1930) is the template for Bad emotional investments whilst the haunting Fine Cargo Lacquer takes flight from the morbidly on point novel The Death Ship by B. Traven. 

God Bless the Death Drive could be construed as a compass to navigate the wayward wonder we inhabit or it can just be enjoyed. This second full length steers into scathed realms of everyday junk and poignant punk, all pressed down on the lowest quality ethylene and chlorine. 

Triple Negative return with another stamped digest of hope as joke, noise and song, rollicking rhythm and seasick soul. 

Edition of 500 copies in high gloss sleeve with printed comic book inner sleeve. 

Reviews for Precious Waste in our Wake :

"Passages of abstract, energetic garage-psych and a previously unimaginable range of unexplored tone and texture (both electronic and acoustic) are weaved together with sensitive, understated jumble-sale genius!! Every ounce of this trio equipped with jaws capable of delivering the same level of writhing combustible haunting BITE and rhythm as This Heat." An endearingly honest and outrageously artful sense of seemingly forgetful prowess - having played together for seventeen years (!) and only now releasing their debut album, “Precious Waste..” really gives weight to the idea that it can take a long time to sound like yourself. Triple Negative's entirely unique breed of dynamic chaos providing the thrill and bewilderment of observing that which is so close to collapse, evolve into a fully realised slab of INFINITE potential. Favourite thing we’ve heard in ages, cannot recommend highly enough." - Low Company

"Three foreign sorts – a Kiwi, a German and a Romanian it says here – converge in London and make dough-thick improv rock-not-rock that sounds like they got all their mates in the studio to hoedown, holler and proclaim. In fact, I think there are just a lot of instruments, although I couldn’t say for certain what most of them are: things stringed and folky, reeded and snakecharmy, samplers, shakers and racket-makers. Voices are abundant, but the words could be in any or none of the languages Triple Negative speak. Gets pretty trancey and ritualistic at times, albeit with plenty of change-ups to pop your joints out, and it all amounts to Precious Waste In Our Wake being potent red diesel for fans of Royal Trux’s Twin Infinitives, Faust, Sun City Girls, Vibracathedral Orchestra and Part Wild Horses Mane On Both Sides." The Quietus

Melted alien fug and scattered dust cloud punk from inglorious crew of London by way of NZ reprobates - 2 Bridges Music Arts

Straggling, wheezing klatter and klang. i’d apply some elastically stretched rockist reductionism but really, it’s sound as collection / collectivism and all the ugly beauty that entails - Cows are just food.

Abbey

Travis_djPTSD

Related tracks