Sometimes, smell is the first thing you hear. Things rarely start the way they're supposed to, at least not really. Supposed-to, what kind of a brute is that? It's a name, a figment, a bewitching beast. Not all that magical though. The magic starts when you let go, when you cease to brandish your anguish as a weapon, when you cease to perceive it as a fashion statement, when you complete the circle of misgivings by indulging in an adamant and quixotic daydream. Sometimes, the best thing to do is to be totally oblivious until a roaring reckoning ignites a departure from the nostalgic grip and you are thrust into voluptuous saplings of an unknown and unspoiled land. Sometimes, you need to forget to remember and sometimes you need to die a little first to come into being. Sometimes, you need to realise that all the wars you're fighting have been sabotaged long ago. At some point, you need to stop preying on the cosmos, waiting for it to give you something to forgive. This is our season. And it's the strangest and the finest we'll ever witness Get to know your Bygone, take him for a ride. But never let him stay - no matter how familiar the whiff of his qualms.
Cloudchamber Recordings edition #CC02.
released March 8, 2013
Recorded, mixed and produced by Prms in various times and spaces between 2007 and 2012, using recordings of guitars, accordions and analogue synthesizers. Words by NH.