Get all 56 Auris Media Records releases available on Bandcamp and save 50%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Sucky, Bebe La Sangre, unfinished tunes for the unfinished movie, they that sow in tears shall reap in joy: a prayer for Ukraine, Live At Musrara Mix, כשאת לא עונה לטלפון, Yiddish Fitness, Plays Ground Zero: Consume Red, and 48 more.
1. |
Bad Bad Horror
05:59
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I opened the tap to the ultimate
Pressure and focused on
The running water
Hailing
Down the sink.
I proceeded to washing my hands,
Rubbing them on one another
Again and again
All red down the drain
It was surreal, so much blood, like in a bad bad bad bad horror .
You couldn't predict your termination:
I am the only survivor,
of this fiction.
Love marked the end of you.
It was surreal, so much blood, like in a bad bad bad bad horror .
Death with a kiss is what you deserved
I keep thinking of the magic moment,
Your last breath gone,
Smiles carved in my face
It was surreal, real freedom, stained and sticky.
How I imagined you should go
I was too cheap to get a gun
Too lazy
To think a pristine show
It was surreal, real freedom, so much blood, as in a bad bad bad bad horror
Knife, stabbing you once, stabbing you twice, stabbing you more than stars in the skies, stabbing you X times, infinite times, infinite times, infinite freedom in jail now I enjoy
Knife, stabbing you once, stabbing you twice, stabbing you more than X times, infinite times, infinite times, final finite freedom in jail now I enjoy
Knife, stabbing you once, stabbing you twice, stabbing you more than X times, infinite times, infinite times, infinite freedom in jail now I enjoy
I continued to washing my hands,
Rubbing them on one another
Again and again
Still red down the drain
It was surreal, real freedom, stained and sticky
You couldn't give me enough of you:
I am a perfectionist.
God ruined us
Penned us on the wrong list
It was surreal, real freedom, so much blood, as a bad bad bad bad horror
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2. |
La Roue
06:36
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Saoul du quotidien comme un chien enchaîné,
Je tourne sempiternellement sans bouger.
Matonne, je t'invite à danser sur la roue.
Ce soir, amène-moi une corde et quelques clous.
Mets-moi à nu je ne crains plus rien.
Ligature-moi les membres et les reins.
Montre-moi le ciel une dernière fois.
Délivre-moi! Oh! Supplice.
Bourreau, casse-moi les os des jambes et des bras.
Achève ton attaque dans mon estomac.
Gisant sur la roue les talons à la nuque,
J'attends la mort doucement caduque.
Abandonné je ne crains plus rien.
La foule savoure l'odeur de ma fin.
Je regarde le ciel une dernière fois.
Délivre-moi! Oh! Supplice
Abandonné je ne suis plus rien.
La foule s'est dissoute au petit matin.
J'ai soupiré une dernière fois:
Miséricorde! Oh! Supplice.
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3. |
Blondinka
02:31
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Trois prisonnières s'échappèrent du pénitencier.
Une rousse, une brune et une blonde.
Elles trottèrent des kilomètres jusqu'à un vieux pailler
où elles trouvèrent des sacs jute pour se cacher.
Une heure plus tard deux flics vinrent en patrouille.
Les cavaleuses étaient mortes de trouille.
Ils inspectèrent un à un les sacs
En les cognant à coup de matraque.
Le sac de la rousse aboya « wa-wao »,
Ils décidèrent que c'était un Chiuaua.
Le sac de la brune miaula « miaow »,
Ils s'accordèrent sur un gros matou.
Le dernier sac demeura silencieux
Les poulets s'étudièrent d'un air douteux
Ils matraquèrent alors plus fort
Et la blonde proposa «Patates»
КАРТОШКА, КАРТОШКА – Я БОЛЬШОЙ МЕШОК!
О БОЖЕ ВЫ НИЧЕГО НЕ СЛЫШАЛИ! Оh, nо ...
L'histoire ne raconte pas la suite de l'aventure
L'imaginer n'est point trop dur.
Mais si vous ne voulez pas finir en purée
Sachez un animal imiter!
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4. |
This Is Not Tradition
05:37
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Practical invasion of disputed territories
Taking land and livestock, occupy the mental quarries
Invasion in the name of distant system of belief
By information, products, soldier, covert action, thief
Empty room, empty seat, empty glass, empty hours
Why are we here singing anthems in the name of cowards
Containing nothing, being nothing, nothing to define
Empty house, empty stomach, empty chest, empty mind
This is not tradition
My ancestors weren't there
This is not tradition
What you say won't make me care
There is no tradition
We're all wasting time
There is no tradition
There is nothing to define
Enclosure, a container, as in a box, as in a room
As in an idea signaling the impending doom
Far west, near east, everything we couldn't reach
The walls insides our minds, the prisons that we teach
Empty room, empty seat, empty glass, empty hours
Why are we here singing anthems in the name of cowards
Containing nothing, being nothing, nothing to define
Empty house, empty stomach, empty chest, empty mind
This is not tradition
My ancestors weren't there
This is not tradition
What you say won't make me care
There is no tradition
We're all wasting time
There is no tradition
There is nothing to define
The moral of the story is that it's good
To forget about things or at least you could
When the past is forgotten and the future is too
You won't have a clue about what to do
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5. |
Po Shpalam
04:15
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Auris Media Records Israel
Israeli label dealing with unusual experimental/avantgarde music.
Was established in 2003 and was
dedicated to promote underground and independent music scene in Israel. The label plans to release the works and unique collaborations of independent artists of any kind from Israel and abroad, as well as live recordings of concerts organized by "Auris Media".
... more
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