Guilty Connector - Beats, Noise, and Life.

imagine you come to find yourself dazed, in the middle of what appears to be an ever-expanding field of corn. you're lying on your back and with each subtle movement, the sun flickers directly into your eyes. you spot a black bird, and then another, and another, and another, until the sky slowly (yet frantically) becomes a sea. their wings wave to the beat of an alarm that sounds violently inside your stomach, but to your ears is faint and possibly delusional. a thought; the birds are either pulling a capsule over your perceived world behind them, or your body is not registering its own decision to stand.

the stalks that surround you begin to rust, and a piercing sound rings incessantly. just then, what you can only imagine to be a railroad spike is driven straight through the center of your skull. almost immediately after the shattering impact, you experience a euphoric moment of serenity as it seems the same black sea that covered the sky begins to run like tar over your brain. the clarity isn't fleeting, but is still complicated by the painful sound of ill-fitting gears struggling to rotate.

is industry coming or going? what part do i now play in this event? can i move (with intention)? do i care to change a thing? the sea is everywhere, and you are no longer able to discern whether you are the lonesome vessel or the rapidly flowing force sent to swallow it whole. you come to realize that your/the world's cyclical gestures and any semblance of pattern has been broken, and everything - including your own sense of self - is ripped to shreds and dispersed in every imaginable direction. you explode, but only to find your (true) self set in permanent motion and everything is experienced in singular moments. whether or not they are remembered is theoretically questionable, but you don't think to wonder. you're moving.

...that's what the opening track, "New York Shibaki Terror Conversation" is like. have fun with the other thirty minutes.

last.fm, Planet Mu Records, myspace in the title.

MOTIONLESS.