Get all 6 Pandemix releases available on Bandcamp and save 20%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Love Is Obliteration, Dead Celebrities, In Condemnation, "Rank & File" b/w "Second Opinion", Scale Models Of Atrocities, and Pathological Culture Demo.
1. |
Vacantest Gaze
02:37
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Playback stop motion decay
Living in a freeze frame
Playback stop motion decay
Living in a freeze frame
This is the moment where you see the shattered glass raining down on the street, where you hear the crowd gasp
Knowing that they’ll soon quickly return to their days, to their vacantest gaze, the interruption passed
This is the moment where I hear footsteps change, notice someone behind me altering their gait
And steel myself in case I have to run for cover, is this what I deserve, to always be potential prey.
(We all get to live this way)
This is the morning where I’m waking up afraid, angry voices, harsh light shining in my face
Confused and panic-stricken as I’m moving for the door, all these pigs that I abhor in the shit of my staircase
This is the moment where the scavengers descend, lured by the ripe smell of something that’s dying
The vulture does what it knows and gorges on the flesh. There’s those who feast on death and the carrion,
(We all get to live this way
Do upkeep on your house of cards every day)
And everyone between falls to one extreme.
There is a demon lurking just out of frame
He knows me, I think that he’s screaming my name,
Saying “do you feel the shame?”
Man, everything had to happen this way.
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2. |
The Next Crisis
02:19
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It’s gonna be a
Perfect world, banners unfurled, assurances for which you never asked;
The next crisis could be the last.
Sleight of hand, product in demand, secure in a new digital caste;
The next crisis could be the last
Militarized police force surveillance state
And big tech robber barons, they integrate
Identity assembly line just keeps churning
Everything is fine;
No outcry, don’t bother to ask why, the streets are clear no need for teargas
The next crisis could be the last.
Stare ahead, don’t clean your own mess, or wipe the shit thats coating your own ass
The next crisis could be the last
Infrastructure advancements, never walked back
This convenience is control, biofeedback
Identity assembly line just keeps churning
Everything is fine.
This crisis could be the last
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3. |
World War None
02:36
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World war none, history has just begun
You were born on the run
World war none, these soldiers don’t carry guns
You were born on the run
World War None
Everybody’s wringing hands about what must be done
Those on high say there’s no conflict, this is the only way, the ones above will call the shots and down here’s where you stay
Your lines are unimportant, just a bit part in the play, but it’s your consent and ignorance that paves the fuckin way.
“This is how it’s always been”, “look out for number one”, “same shit different day”
You’ve accepted what they need you to believe; age old myths for state of the art death machines.
Working hard and keep your nose to the grindstone, so you won’t notice you’re alone;
Desperation, when will it be my turn?
Isolation, with my lessons unlearned.
Everyone in their own little domicile, you learn young that you can’t trust a stranger’s smile
And that no one is so strange as those you know, and then you notice you’re alone;
And camaraderie has been replaced by doubt, constant competition starts to wear you out
Wonder if you can ever work your way up, and make the beatings all worth it.
Your life’s a slip of paper that’s passed ‘cross the boss’s desk
A number on a spreadsheet, expunged once you’re in the red
A minor incongruence on the quarterly report
Every single second measuring and comparing your worth
Realized much too late the competition wasn’t real
Another worker takes your place, they can’t refuse the deal
You blame yourself, number your faults, the things that you did wrong
The class system continues, and world war none carries on
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4. |
Exiles
01:30
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There’s a song out there just waiting for my voice
To give it form, to prop up a worn-out noise
There’s a hope buried in the heart of each day
That’s beating red, pumping throughout the city’s gray
Exiles walk the garden paths alone
All smiles, squeezing piss out of a stone
When everything I’ve known
Shows me that I’m wrong and there’s nothing to find.
The longest year’s slow death of my unconscious mind
The longest year
Betray my fear, make it all seem like child’s play
Fuck the song, fuck the hope in the day
I’ve seen it done before, it happens all the time
The rebels wind up upholding the party line
I’ve seen it done before, it’s happened once again
They say “better days ahead”, but won’t tell you just when
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5. |
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I’m so excited for the reboot of the remake of a story that once meant something to me!
Look at the shimmering characters enshrined on my TV
Why can’t I be more like them, who have such agency?
Why can’t I be the hero in - my own story?
“Did you see who said what last night on the awards show?”
“I heard the prince of Britain’s going to abdicate the throne!”
How did I accept that rich strangers lives matter more to me than my own?
I have grown so bored of all of the people around me
Why can’t I tell them to fuck off? They dress so garishly.
A star’s life is so glamorous, they can have mine for me!
Do you feel unexceptional, like you’re just killing time?
Your neighbor has a bigger house and drinks fancier wines
The office and the commute and the gym, they can’t disguise
The hope that dead celebrities will bring meaning to your life
Watch as the colors drain, your world has turned to gray
But Bowie died for your sins, so it’s ok
Though you may bear the guilt, of a normal fucking life
You know that Prince died for your sins, so it’s alright
Do you feel someone else has dictated the terms you meet?
You’ve been living much too long to think anything comes for free
The nightlife and the pastimes and the infidelities
The only tears you ever shed are for dead celebrities
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6. |
Pigs At The Trough
02:33
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You’re gonna scream and stamp your feet, then catalog and file your invective
And telegraph your own defeat, I’m gonna get a little more selective cuz
You can’t call it freedom if you never really choose it, lopping off toes til the shoe fits
I’ve got all the bruises and contusions to prove it, I’m gonna get a little less than lucid;
All the punks on the dance floor,
Pigs at the trough, pigs at the trough or
Little boys just playing war.
Yesterday’s failures washed ashore
Dredge the fucking lake, for any corpses clothes that you can borrow
You’ve got the chills, you’ve got the shakes, you know that you’ll feel even worse tomorrow
Cuz you can’t call it freedom and then hide from consequences, chopping off fingers for attention
Call it what you want it’s narcissism by consensus, let’s not go getting defensive
All the punks on the dance floor
Pigs at the trough, pigs at the trough or
Psychopaths just planning war
Swatting flies with a two-by-four.
I’m outed like a treasonist, compromised like a realist
Depraved like a hedonist gone off the deep end
When the ship has been capsized and all my fears have realized
They’re as real as me and the water rushing in
Pigs in wolves clothing and bondage gear, dressed to the nines
Pigs in rooms that don’t officially exist, plotting war crimes
Pigs in every beating heart, in every dying mind
Pigs down in the cargo hold, sure that there’s still plenty of time
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7. |
Crimes of Convenience
03:11
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There will be no foldout spread of the kids in cages, left unread in the pages of a waiting room magazine
Dug a hole shallow enough to fit your deepest convictions, aw shit, douse it all in gasoline
And watch the fire climb its way through your dreams
As people line up to commit crimes of convenience
I know the end is coming soon
I know, I know, I know it’s the devil’s favorite season
If I’m going down then so are you
I remembered every thread I ever pulled, unravelling, felt old and exposed without my disguise
I stared hard at your face, it rearranged itself smooth and blank, we’re estranged even if its just in my mind
That face looked just like mine
There will be no pageantry when it all burns down in front of me, oh the sound of cracking bones
There will be no poetry when the city slides into the sea, I’ll never be all on my own
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8. |
The First Crisis
02:37
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The first time I remember that my mother told me to look away,
The Columbine Massacre was on the television that day.
Looking back on it now, that first crisis seems so distant
It’s so unexceptional, this spectacle of routinized violence.
The news treated it just like an ad for a Hollywood blockbuster,
And I wondered who mopped up the blood? The school janitor?
All the death that’s endemic to this nation’s greatness, that never merits a media event,
It’s all a part of the same story that’ll never end,
And there is this part that’s coming up where the raven kills the dove
And talons slide into a neck like a hand meant for a glove.
There is this part that will happen just as ordained by god above
Where we’re all glorified beasts struggling to weather the flood,
Unless we are the chosen two who won’t be made an example of.
In his infinite wisdom he’ll show us that obliteration is love.
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9. |
Scorched Earth Policy
02:15
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Walk a barren landscape, enumerating cruelty without provocation
Headlines and billboards, all still screaming “love is obliteration”
Creatures of habit, always seeking euphoria
Reach out and grab it, ever fleeting, euphoria
I’ll see your good intentions and raise you one scorched earth policy
When humanitarians start talking about “the good of the economy”
In the land of the buy two get one free, did obedience give you a sense of security?
Fix your hair, raise your champagne glass, yelling (while the poor are under your feet) “Fuck yeah!”
Took no notice who pissed in your cup, who profited off every day of your bad luck
Your laughter drowns out the sucking sound, you’re laughing while the world burns down
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10. |
Learned It Young
04:30
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I learned it young, the way of the world, buy and work and breed, get sick then die
I’d just begun to see how complex life is when someone tried to simplify;
Catholic classrooms where I learned about my sins
The cardinal one seemed to be having questions
I learned it young, when I was taught about the differences between boys and girls
The only one, or so it appeared, left out by the logics that ran their world
Everything that seems so normal, seems so common sense
What happens when you’re on the other side of that fence?
Though the grass may seem greener, it might be fucking dead
And the shit they’ve used for fertilizer’s stuffed inside your head
Conditioning we can’t escape, the legacies of those displaced
Conditioning we can’t escape, the ones who don’t fit in will be erased
I learned it better than some, god damn i grieve those friends
All the haunted ones, who now squat my home instead
They bang on these pipes like ribs desperate to break
Creaks where they step, creases in my face
I learned it young, the meanings we assign to arbitrary social categories
Speak in one tongue, the one that’s defined by those who hold authority
Though they can’t shut up about this meritocracy
The fix is fucking in and its not difficult to see
A new clear day glo back drop to tantalize your eyes
But the actors on the stage are all the same shade of white
I learned it young, what there is to expect for those who won’t or can’t assimilate
Sever the tongues of the heretics, if you won’t be bent to the whims of the state
If you can’t be made productive to the ruling class,
Benevolent smile barely concealing a laugh
They’ll say “we’ve got a place for you, a social safety net”
And place you into a lifetime of struggle and of debt
I learned it better than some, god damn i grieve those friends
All the haunted ones, who now squat my home instead
They bang on these pipes like ribs desperate to break
There are creaks where they step, the creases in my face
Tally the years that pass, the winner gets no prize.
Just please keep on pouring until I go cross-eyed
And then I can pretend this is the last dead friend,
Or this is my last round, or this is the last crisis.
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