We fixate on the spots where light leaks in. The windows always amber, the wooden always weathered. Rats trail as we look onward in defiance of reality. They lick at our aimless steps in anticipation of collapse. Divine judgement: a dull tremor. Our kin bleat inside the buildings.
Faith becomes a bandage on the scabbing wound we gnash at. Our language limited and unremitting. We see fire but feel cool. We hear winds blow but are unmoved. We call upon the instrument of voice, lurching forward in syllabic gasps, choking, rocking ourselves back and forth. Our psalm a shell, our muse a void.
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About the Curator - Psetta
Psetta is an interdisciplinary artist & musician. Hailing from Portland, Maine, he curates community radio programming, flirting with mundane, innovative & surreal sounds.
With his radio show, So Fertile, he runs a biweekly submission-friendly playlist, “summer but I don’t like heat”, covering upcoming, obscure, and quintessential Lo-Fi, Electronic, Dream Pop, Ambient, Post-Punk, & Experimental music.
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Latest Posts
Zanmi kanmarad – Claudette et Ti Pierre
24 March 2020
“Zanmi kanmarad” was first released in 1979 on Claudette et Ti Pierre’s second Macaya Records album, Camionette. Information on the duo themselves beyond Discogs’ dedicated archivist community proved to be more difficult to piece together…