This is utterly fantastic. Love what you are doing, keep it up.

A collection of our favorite tracks while browsing ye olde cloude of sounds in October 2018

MTD Mixtape October 2018

Make It Her, Forever

Lyrics:

The air is plagued with sin
Trembling within genetic lockdown 
But absorption occurs
Blood boils behind regard
Letting weakness seep through the lard

Wander away to the hermit's hub
A kink in their hose is a “chemical flub” 
But slip those depleted remains from shackled refrain

Infatuation with a blooming collage
This idol of faith may be a distant mirage
Away from realist sustenance
Which repels thine brother's grasp

A vivid moment of lavish resort
Enlightens with primal intensity
Memory is conserved 
Through one's own will to preserve

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Anecdote:

A thick, heavily polluted environment hosts a wave of bustling drones, who seek involvement with any sort of activity that will distract them from entering a consistent stream of consciousness. Deep within this mass, lies an innocent victim with no means of escape. He takes to hiding within himself for self-preservation, only to realize that this elevates his feelings of isolation and unease. In order to avoid internal combustion, he absorbs his surroundings and everything trivial that goes along with its course, filtering out only the dense redundancies that could permanently damage his psyche. He seeks remedies to not only numb his pain, fear, and frustration over this adaptation, but to also generate a point of stability that enables him to reflect and ponder his situation in a healthy manner. Though aware he's being broken down along this journey, he hopes that his patience and persistence will eventually provide a permanent escape before he's indefinitely consumed by the abyss of nothingness.

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Scott Mitchell Gorski - Upright Bass, Voice 
Lindsey Paige Miller - Cello 

Songs, Lyrics, and Concept By Scott Mitchell Gorski 
Cello Parts written by Lindsey Paige Miller 

Recorded and Mixed by Greg Norman at Electrical Audio in Chicago, IL
Mastered by Bob Weston at Chicago Mastering Service in Chicago, IL
Produced by Okapi

Carousel (Part I)

The Fourth Wall

Lyrics:

Trudging muscles ache in heavy snow
Body damp with freezing sweat in bitter cold
Nightly wind cuts dry, brittle skin
Stomach empty from a fruitless hunt

Meadow below, distant lights show
A tiny village nests beneath mountain shields
So, I draw near the bustle of sounds rising
From the tired evening silence
Their hands held out to me
With warmth, they take me in

They clothe me in wool, 
While leading me to a crafted stool 
In front of cakes and ales
Encircling laughs and dancing
With no regard for daily chores
But my glass is kept full
 
Dawn beams unto thine face
But there's no change of pace
An absence of wear in their chase -
It seems a trifle odd
Yet I want to learn how this beauty is preserved
No pain, but how can such things reign?
They say I should refrain

My thoughts are warned through persistence
For to ponder is to wander away from paradise
I insist on my help, and the peace breaks
Fires are set ablaze
Hypnotic movements form a haze

Their actions turn aggressive and their words all become brash
Their bright eyes become pitted and their smiles turn to snarls
I fear the intent with their gaze aimed at me
To become? Or to be chastised?
I'll be on my merry way!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Anecdote:

A lone traveler, cold and hungry from an unsuccessful hunt, stumbles upon a small village hidden deep within a forest. He approaches, and at first finds its people to be warm, welcoming, and energetic with life. But as time passes, he notices inconsistencies in the way their village operates. No one appears to work or sleep, and their over-indulgence in festivities seems endless. It feels like a paradise to the traveler, who's interested in learning how they're able make this system work. The villagers decline to explain, and warn him that prying will only cause discrepancies in their flow. But the outsider cannot help his curiosity, and because of his persistence and their constant rebuttals throughout his stay, the villagers lose their patience, morphing into evil, aggressive creatures in order to protect their ways. In this event, the traveler is forced to decide whether he should flee or become part of their utopia with no questions asked. 

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Scott Mitchell Gorski - Upright Bass, Voice 
Lindsey Paige Miller - Cello 

Songs, Lyrics, and Concept By Scott Mitchell Gorski 
Cello Parts written by Lindsey Paige Miller 

Recorded and Mixed by Greg Norman at Electrical Audio in Chicago, IL
Mastered by Bob Weston at Chicago Mastering Service in Chicago, IL
Produced by Okapi

Persona Non Grata

Lyrics:

Old gaping-gob, head ticks
Imploring seekers impound, surround
The stomach stirs when tainted tails erupt, blow up
Discharging such facetious... oh, mediations

Amongst these raging tides, upon the clearing
Natives summon a celebration
Keeping the embers lit
Keeping the peace afloat
Pull them to our bosom
For a creation of elation

Reaching for a distant shore, sea of clover
The closer to lust, the more he rusts
Dangling, frayed, and too late to delay
They pray and they prey
For robust and bold dismay

Surrender to the setting sun
As the dancing shell is hoisted up
Bones pierce the bark, in spite of our frothing fellows

Marry thine body with its bright crystal beads
Birthed upon their bronze provider
Shedding, they cascade down 
To the parched domain of our departed ancestors

Heavy breaths, and a fatal swoon
Beneath the open hides, it gradually splits open wide

It leans with a faint, quarreled form
And red berries are ripped from their polluted tree,
While the holes are covered with a brand new plea

A healthy branch looms amongst the congregation
Sucking thumb, and looking into the sun
Sensing the mosaic disarray
While harvesting the short-lived praise they soon will have to face

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Anecdote:

A tribe of cynical, judgmental, and hyperactive folks are unable to elect a leader, which puts their collective on the brink of mental combustion. Then one day, in the distance, they witness a ceremony of pain and transcendence taking place, and are quick to become envious of this primitive form of self discovery. Naturally, they hope for the worst with the individual at hand, who must undergo his observers' scrutiny in order to become a figure of medicine. But when the individual survives the ritual of torment, he is praised by both tribes, and all want to feed off his glory. The acknowledgment and power is invigorating, yet he's saddened to realize that the praise won't last forever, despite the pain and strife he's endured for his accomplishment. Others are proud of him for the moment, but the emptiness of his own personal purpose is a far worse pain that inevitably awaits his confrontation.

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Scott Mitchell Gorski - Upright Bass, Voice 
Lindsey Paige Miller - Cello 

Songs, Lyrics, and Concept By Scott Mitchell Gorski 
Cello Parts written by Lindsey Paige Miller 

Recorded and Mixed by Greg Norman at Electrical Audio in Chicago, IL
Mastered by Bob Weston at Chicago Mastering Service in Chicago, IL
Produced by Okapi

Upon the Clearing

Lyrics:

Forming prophecies from all the smoke that's been released
Finally finding fortunes in the drunk, sunken tea leaves
Caught between the fields of green and seductive serpentines

A diluted resolution
Flails his arms for that fake farm
Hugging its feet for the blessed retreat

Pounding form into the dirt over rotting finds
Infertile and bitter with no means of taking flight
Soaking into the flytrap that robotic apes contract

Through ebb and flow, with a coarse touch
Remove our inherent crutch
Prod the laughing foe to confront their chateau

Solitary ventures have fallen short in their packs			
Blood of infectious broods leak into the source of facts
Lactations contaminated in the hostess' breasts

Cast them into the coiling flux
Forge your spatial communion
And sit in the garden I've eaten, in peace

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Anecdote:

Subconsciously avoiding a constructive self-evaluation, an aimless wanderer hastily seeks prophetic signs, divine symbolism, and patterns in nature for some personal guidance and reassurance. But when his own ploy is suddenly unveiled, he persuades himself to take a new initiative, only to find other paths that have been heavily trodden upon. Old age has stolen his agility and youthful ambition, leaving him with an inability to begin his own course. He reaches out to successors for consultation and consolation, but is only handed plastic principles and invitations to join their pursuits, so that he can adopt an identity under their wing. He declines out of suspicion and retreats to a natural environment to take pleasure in eating society's forbidden fruit. Though indecisive and against all odds, he acknowledges and embraces his naivety, choosing ambiguity over the security of being a gear in the machine of another.

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Scott Mitchell Gorski - Upright Bass, Voice 
Lindsey Paige Miller - Cello 

Songs, Lyrics, and Concept By Scott Mitchell Gorski 
Cello Parts written by Lindsey Paige Miller 

Recorded and Mixed by Greg Norman at Electrical Audio in Chicago, IL
Mastered by Bob Weston at Chicago Mastering Service in Chicago, IL
Produced by Okapi

Bundle's Bolero

Lyrics:

A silk cocoon has cradled its womb
A sterile draft has awaited my craft

Beasts align when the time is mine
Forcep hands bring inverted dance

We relay thoughts of our inner-sense lost
Casting beams feature naked sleeves

Wrenched into disfigurement
We summon up new measurement

Limelight dribble under lunar light
Conductive drivel under hyper's sight

The juice of fertility
The jewels of hostility

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Anecdote:

A prophet enters the world and is immediately accosted by the reigning beasts of the present. They feel threatened by his emergence, and so the prophet confronts them with his psychic knowledge, exposing all their weaknesses and falsities. Fearing the descent of their integrity through their exploitation, they plead with the seer, who vows to spare their disclosure if they can rebuild themselves with purity and truth. The beasts attempt make an attempt, but find it much more arduous and cumbersome than their usual approach. They give up quickly and relapse, in order to get the most from their lowest energy output. The prophet is then left to interpret the fate of their decision.

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Scott Mitchell Gorski - Upright Bass, Voice 
Lindsey Paige Miller - Cello 

Songs, Lyrics, and Concept By Scott Mitchell Gorski 
Cello Parts written by Lindsey Paige Miller 

Recorded and Mixed by Greg Norman at Electrical Audio in Chicago, IL 
Mastered by Bob Weston at Chicago Mastering Service in Chicago, IL
Produced by Okapi

A Sterile Draft

Lyrics:

Clear endings purge
Beginnings emerge
Buried gems ring bells below
Embodied canvas aglow

Trailing conscious delay
The smell of decay
Predator salivates
Must enslave the prey

Foggy shield in his scope starts wielding its blur
Darkness creeping in a'drape, a figure takes shape 
Clarity falls short
Fear found its mort, which had failed to abort

Cryptic it remains, unknown, awaiting impulse
Eating up the breadcrumb trail of my unexplored tale
White walls have paved its allure and charm
The steadiness speaks no harm

Prying happy smiles with clean, fresh sterile style
Apathy ahead for miles, and more to compile
In this dry time, darkness will prevail
The crop you tend will surely fail

Over smoldering musk scents, sandalwood ferments
Whistles pitching high initiate tree roots' slide
Hypnotic pulses on animal skins 
Present the smudge stick to its grin

Forced in a tight cell
Where thoughts mean to dwell, they swell
Will man cry when his wings are torn off dry?

Pregnant tongues howl 
Adolescent eyes growl
Feed with exotic rinds
To birth the silver kind

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Anecdote:

After another season of failed crops, a farmer contemplates finally giving up his harsh, unpredictable lifestyle. But that very night, he's visited by a formidable shadowy figure, who mysteriously tempts him with a life of promise and ease. Skeptical and fearful of this strange lure, the farmer uses his own power to ward off the figure, and much to his own surprise, is successful! With a new sense of confidence and ambition now filling his veins, he begins preparing for the next season, while ivory wings slowly begin sprouting from his shoulders. Months pass, and yet his crops still produce nothing. His hope wanes yet again, and in response, the wings slowly begin tearing off from his body, painfully reminding him of his tepid past. Amidst the agony, he prays for the shadowy figure to return once more, so he can be offered a second chance.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Scott Mitchell Gorski - Upright Bass, Voice 
Lindsey Paige Miller - Cello 

Songs, Lyrics, and Concept By Scott Mitchell Gorski 
Cello Parts written by Lindsey Paige Miller 

Recorded and Mixed by Greg Norman at Electrical Audio in Chicago, IL
Mastered by Bob Weston at Chicago Mastering Service in Chicago, IL
Produced by Okapi

Fear of White Walls

Lyrics:

His halo has lifted, it drifted away
And the people who choose black or white, he paints grey
Knowledge and skills are his currency
Their predictability a handshake

Their pillars, once ripe, are brought down in one swipe
To make the land our church, and forgiveness - unheard
A shrine rebuilt for all seeking sure defeat
The ones who dare to dance, limber and discreet

Plucked from his tree, pulled off of his track
Placed in captivity with walls thick of glass
Displayed as a menace, an infectious seed about
Warning those who question convention and its clout

Collapsing on a thinly stiffened cot
And fighting the stench from a porcelain pot
A carving knife lies beside fruits that rot
A clever plot, but his spite's all he's got

His room sits amongst the union square
An invitation for all to come and stare
Disciples of tradition, they gather in his despair
The chairmen of conviction applaud for their snare
			
His roots retire
Under this enemy choir
Whittled and weak with desire
Entwined in a patient pyre

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Anecdote:

Frustrated with the deceit and dishonesty prevalent in society, a man decides to dismantle the village structure using his intellect and witty trickery. He utilizes the people's weak principles as leverage against them, hoping to prompt a realization that could lead them to building a much stronger foundation of consciousness. But his plans backfire, and he's captured by the townsfolk, imprisoned, and put on display in a transparent cell which sits in the village square. They study their captive like a deprived primate, and entertained by his suffering, hope he fulfills his own punishment by doing himself in.

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Scott Mitchell Gorski - Upright Bass, Voice 
Lindsey Paige Miller - Cello 

Songs, Lyrics, and Concept By Scott Mitchell Gorski 
Cello Parts written by Lindsey Paige Miller 

Recorded and Mixed by Greg Norman at Electrical Audio in Chicago, IL
Mastered by Bob Weston at Chicago Mastering Service in Chicago, IL
Produced by Okapi

Quarantine

Lyrics:

The moss spreads o'er our land
Laid to rest in shade by the blinding hand
Colors change, luster sustains
When mold is torn, a new crescendo's born

Sirens cry out mournful drones
For what our loops have sewn
Relying on time to complete repairs
There's twig scaffolding for porcelain stairs

Reaching for petals of merlot
Fingers climb up her barbed rope
Painfully true, partisan you

Sugar on their tongues
Fluid pools in their lungs
Sweat it out, why lick it up?
Our own connection's a confection unspun

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Anecdote:

As mold overcomes the stagnancy of an environment reigned by shade, a morphing sprout breaks free to shine amongst the dull. Though it suffers from pain and fatigue, it perseveres, understanding that this grueling path toward its goal is inevitable. In admiration, the neighboring buds cry out for aid, and the sprout extends a hand to help them as much as possible. But as soon as the other buds discover the difficulty in maintaining independent beauty, they unhinge from the sprout to remain stationary. Solely absorbing the fundamental nourishment for simple survival, the buds begin feeding back into the loop that they once tried to break free from.

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Scott Mitchell Gorski - Upright Bass, Voice 
Lindsey Paige Miller - Cello 

Songs, Lyrics, and Concept By Scott Mitchell Gorski 
Cello Parts written by Lindsey Paige Miller 

Recorded and Mixed by Greg Norman at Electrical Audio in Chicago, IL
Mastered by Bob Weston at Chicago Mastering Service in Chicago, IL
Produced by Okapi

Partisan You

I have decided to re-release all my "Spirit Magnet" stuff as "the turtle project", just makes more sense ,so expect more of these this month. 

Spooktober is here :)

Welcome To Boo Town

music . Kinsâme  @bissecta @kins-me @kiyotoyoshihara
lyrics / vocals / artwork . Bissecta de Kinsâme @user-903486738
vocals  . Mariam Zohra D : Myrh

included in Benzaiten Muses II Women in Experimental Music by Cian Orbe https://cianorbe2nd.bandcamp.com/album/benzaiten-muses-ii-women-in-experimental-music-cior-347

Part of the album "WARRIOR WITCHES"
https://bissecta-and-the-muses.bandcamp.com/album/warrior-witches-wip-whip
https://soundcloud.com/myrhyum/sets/with-bissecta-de-kinsa-me

Sourire l'acte (The end of the world)
Aux noms de tous tes noms Déesse des Dieux! Les évasions deviennent consommables, consumables, conspirées par le cortège des oracles guerrières  moites de cette succion d'éther. Celles-là qui font misère des cordes à peines comptées, parfois entrevues durant le vivre et le mourir en la seule seconde terrifiante, orgasmique, mourir et vivre en la seconde qu'Elle éclate,
Mère de la misère corde. En la seconde mourir et vivre, vivre et mourir en la seconde. Louanges à Déesses! Horribles câlins naissant dans le vent des ans où va et vient le débit désabusé, bel amour sans condition qui soupire les ondes des forgerons attestant le rythme radial, grand blanc semé à la trace odorante de ses voix. Saigneuses des univers. Celles-là même qui trament misère des cordes. Vénérer pleinement chaque porteur par pulsions premières sous le planning sévère de quelques planètes envieuses d'être épelées du feu à quatre pattes insoumises; seul ce feu faisait mine de savoir l'eau interstitielle. Mères des misères cordes. Mourir et vivre en sa seconde. En sa seconde,
mourir et vivre. Reines des secondes sans jugement. Telle la silhouette en treillis assouvissant de déserts les humains accrochés à leurs crampes encrées aux milliards de maux, par inadvertance, offerts afin qu'ils bâtissent, oui ces salopes avec ou sans pénis, les humains qui bâtissent ces piliers
dorées soutenant cette vacuité sure d'eux. C'est vous que j'adore! Vous! Dont je méprise le but. Plaies pyrrhiques abruptes aussi abrutissantes que l'obscurantisme des réverbères coincés sur la castration féodale incrustée aux fausses pierres et leurs nouvelles prières des putains de pères. Perds-moi vers la plaine gauche: alors les capacités persisteront à siffler le violet flûté encore, flûté, flûté, profondément flûté sur la pression psychique hurlée, flûtée, juste unisson et passion sans pardon, flûtée et harpée avec la cruelle croyance criarde des crocs qu'ameute la marche têtue de l'araignée. Vers la plaine gauche de celles que vous avez vidées de méfaits. En votre seconde mourir
et vivre, vivre et mourir en votre seconde. Je vous prie d'y passer en premier; je vous aime car vous secondes croustillaient les lobes qu'elles prennent signataires des astres lagunaires, elles y demeurent volatiles au claquement de doigts, leur demeure première et seconde s'évapore lasse des lèvres pluvieuses, vers la plaine gauche. Oui c'est la plaine de celles qui bafouent votre
bienveillance et de celles des troublantes trouvailles censées commettre la langue du parsec convulsif qui goutte ainsi la seconde où il se doit de mourir et de vivre. Vivre et mourir en la seconde. De ta main, de ta seconde, mourir et vivre. Vivre et mourir de ta main, de ta seconde.
My muse will live at the end of the world
My Muse will live at the end of the world. 
From deep water he feel everything. 
Spell drunk this time wrapped into syntony. 
Once upon the space who surround us. 
Life care and sing Death, Death care and sing Life.
It was fairy empty of word
It was nearly the big mouth laughing
It was merry with this six toys that traps
My muse will leave at the end of the world.
Come on sweet newt dive into the lava...

Bissecta & The Muses

Into The Lava - Bissecta De Kinsâme | Myrh

electricpaul: vocals, rhythmic guitars, lyrics & music https://www.instagram.com/electricpaul
piero peluche: lead guitar, bass, drums, mix & master www.pieropeluche.yolasite.com/
DOWNLOAD: https://fottutobianco.bandcamp.com/track/big-heart

I've got a big heart
You got to know where to start
I've got a hard time
Like fruit that rots on the vine
I've got a good grudge
Who are you to judge ?
It doesn't mean much
Maybe just be out of touch

Oh, you know
When you punching low
Oh, you feel
You're on even keel
Oh, you know
And so it goes

I've got a cold stone
and that's just ripe to throw
I've got a steel grin
Tightly stretching my chin
I've got a firm hand
So you know where I stand
And when the time comes
You got to get up and run



Oh, you know
To grow, you show
Up, and down
A troll, a clown
To get love
You've got to give from above

I've got some pale skin
Oh so ruddy and thin
I've got a hard nose
That spites my face and it knows
I've got an old bone
That I pick and I hone
I've got a thick head
That will remain when I'm dead

Oh, you know
You reap what you sew
Hey, ho ! 
I work the land with my hoe
So, so
You just never know

Big Heart

AVANT GARDE | GUTTER PROG | GARAGE JAZZ

Some of our art is made on computers, some of it is made by hand. We are particularly interested in that gray area in between where you cant really tell. All of what we create here is one work laid out in segments, all connected. The Mystic Tape Deck universe is vast and explores all manner of adding meaning to our lives, while pondering meaninglessness.

Please consider supporting our project and helping us complete the work. We make books and cds that go with them. We also have a graphic novel and a custom oracle deck in the works. All part of the story.

A Multimedia Puzzle-Story Of An Immortal Being's Struggle To Define And Exert Their Will Upon A Wholly Deterministic And Ambivalent Multiverse, And The Strange Cult Who Loves Them.

--------

Greetings to you: readers, beaders, seekers, wanderers, wonderers, outsiders, rebels, fantasy gamers, freaks, mythologists, philosophers, appreciators, creators, perpetuators of beauty, coveters of mysterious objects, collectors of counter culture, the curious, the questioners, the unusual, the unique, the star children, the light workers, shadow integrators, diviners, alchemists, hermits, monks and popes, the saviors and prophets, the builders and destroyers of worlds, the old ones, the young ones, the rollers of boulders, the sun orbiters, the morning star dewdrops and twinkle toed dreamers of dreams, you mystic shining beacons, you crossers and denizens of the void, reality shapers, universe makers and underworld freaks.

"A prominent feature of avant-garde music is to break through various rules and regulations of traditional culture, in order to transcend established creative principles and appreciation habits. Avant-garde music pursues novelty in musical form and style, insisting that art is above everything else; thus, it creates a transcendental and mysterious sound world. Hint, metaphor, symbol, association, imagery, synesthesia and perception are widely used in avant-garde music techniques to excavate the mystery of human heart and the flow of consciousness, so that many seemingly unrelated but essentially very important events interweave into multi-level structures and forms."

OKAPI is a duo which utilizes upright bass, cello, and voice through raw, intimate orchestrations driven by honesty and philosophical content. We advocate the conscious confrontation with reality, rather than the subconscious avoidance or distraction from it, and encourage individual awareness, freedom, and healthy growth. We hope to inspire consciousness in all those who are willing to listen.

Quarantine

Okapi

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