Disorientated, we wandered off the grid. Now under some telepathic agreement, or something or another, we ushered in as gravity collapsed. Sitting there, in this room fashioned blue and black, we saw her staring back. Now these imaginary little filaments or something like that, they flew through the air, but never made contact.
Repeat after me, repeat after me. This trance isn't real unless you believe.
She called us by name like our mothers in the doorway of some seventh plane world. And her proof of pulse was shown as the needle turned south. It went from point A to C as the tri-tone made its noise. Now it wasn't her that lied to us ya see, we heard someone say something like "well bless your heart," but no it wasn't her.
Our best help would shudder, as all our plans would fail. We knew the night was over, so we muttered our final words: "maybe we'll be here again, maybe death is just waking up. Now maybe when we die.. we'll really just be waking up." And then I realized..
I started to believe, that I had almost left this world.
But then she disappeared so yaaaaa.
From L.A. comes the latest from post-rock outfit bondo, with tendrils of spindly guitar snaking through arid percussion. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 4, 2023