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Drew Cox Minimal with a really nice warm diy tape sound. The two brothers are a perfect compliment to each other with Joel providing some sublime clean guitar goodness as a platform for Adriel's heartfelt and honest spoken word. A really nice release. Favorite track: Sebastian.
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    The download comes with an 11-page PDF liner notes booklet and a bonus track featuring the guitar instrumentals for "Friend", "The Ending Womb", "Lake and Mountain", "The Artist", and "Sebastian", recorded live to tape.

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about

Portraits painted by an electric guitar and spoken poetry recorded onto tape.

"The Ending Womb" lyric video: vimeo.com/85112369

credits

released February 2, 2014

Poetry written and performed by Adriel Brandt
Music written and performed by Joel Brandt

Recorded by Joel Brandt
Mixed by Joel Brandt and Matthew Janzen
Mastered by Matthew Janzen

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license

all rights reserved

about

Joel Brandt + Adriel Brandt

Brothers.

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Contact Joel Brandt + Adriel Brandt

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Track Name: 117
I stand abjectly in the shower
as minutes drag on into hours.
I wonder if there is a soap
that cleans despair—with scent of hope;
or facial scrub that clears out ears
as well as melancholic years;
or a shampoo that smells of life
and washes out all stress and strife—
conditioner that smoothes the hair
and takes away my abject air—
but no, my wretchedness remains,
and only water finds the drain.
Track Name: Friend
Please tell me why
you sigh nightly,
while trees exhale
a trail of smoke
and choking carbon.

Please call me when
you send the letter,
I met her twice,
she’s nice—you shouldn’t,
I wouldn’t hurt her.

Please hold me tight,
tonight, when the lights fade.
I made a nest,
my best yet mattress;
and yes, I’ll hold you back.
Track Name: The Ending Womb
There’s a model ship sitting in my room;
just there—
above the desk.
It sails upon the stale and noiseless air—
a tomb-
like silence.

There’s a globe, turning idly in my room;
just there—
on the bookshelf.
It shows me that I can’t go anywhere—
a doom
of absence.

A light bulb flick-flickers out in my room;
just there—
the ceiling dims.
I can’t see anything, but I don’t care—
a womb-
like darkness.

There lies a hand-bound journal in my room;
just there—
upon the desk.
Its secrets—hidden there, I do not share—
consume
my insides.

My heart is full, it hasn’t any room;
just there—
that’s why it cries.
In silence holding her beyond compare—
for whom
I wake up.

And yet, I know I will not leave my room;
just there—
that’s where I lie.
It is a tomb, the ending womb: my lair—
a gloom
inflicted.
Track Name: Lake and Mountain
Crystal lights under transparent skin—
rippling coursing stars in motion
underneath a dimpled veil.
Step around on earthen tissue—
pushed out in endless cycle
(soft sand thick dirt hard rock soft sand—
blowing in the wind)—
like knuckles ridged we jump along,
upon the fingers of some great
unknowable hand that holds us.

Take light steps down the rubble—
loose rock like water off a duck’s back;
trees like feathers hold his flesh together,
spread around us (freeing us), but fast,
so fast, we find ourselves back at the road.
Trees like spirit totems flash by,
spread around us, closing in, but vast—
so vast. We find ourselves alone,
rolling down the pavement river
snaking grey through the giant’s back
as trees blur into dreams.
Track Name: The Artist
What tender brush was used to shade your throat—
to line each tiny hair with silver light
and trace the pattern of your living skin?
What steady hand could sculpt such perfect bones;
on which is draped with flawless grace a cloak
of supple thread in ivory and blush?
What flower gave its colour to your lips;
what lonely star found romance in your eyes?
Whatever entities have formed you thus,
they’ve done a work miraculous.
Track Name: Sebastian
When movement ends—one day, I will find home.
One day I will find home—not just a bed,
not just four walls, a roof above my head—
when movement ends, one day, I will find home.
When I was young, I was alive (I am).
The old are young, the young are old, and I
feel rather closer to the grave than sky.
When I was young, I was alive (I am).
But Father, I am going places—yes.
A home, a grave—these places call to me
and say, “In me, you’ll find your rest, you’ll see,”
so Father, I am going places.