By Eva GnostiquetteMusic
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episodes

  • I Believe In You
    This is a remake of a song (original: https://clyp.it/tmsvewpb) I made for my friend Nicole a couple years ago to encourage them. I decided to rerecord it to test out my Line 6 Variax. It's also available as a general pick-me-up./
    •
    Lyrics:
    I believe in you. You can do it!
    I believe in you. You can do it!!
    I believe in you! You can do it!!!
    And if you don't believe, I believe in you.
    And if you don't believe, I believe in you.
    (You can do it!)
    •
    Credits:
    • Evangeline Sutherland
    ——vocals, guitar, production
    1 min
  • Dear Science We Figured It Out
    Three things converged: one, my friend Yael gave me the idea for the title of this track. Two, I challenged myself to write "math noise neofolk w/ blast beats and occasional shrieks". Three, I wanted to write a song loosely around the theme of exploding head syndrome.
    My lyrics here are more nonsensical and disjointed than usual, in part because my main motivation was musical experimentation; verbal expression took a backseat here.
    •
    Lyrics:
    Everything is so chaotic here.
    All I want is for a little peace:
    Aldebaran is shining in the night,
    cherry blossoms will bloom so sweet.
    Drinking black milk in the morn,
    awaiting strike at the break of dawn.
    The lyric sheet is lying ripped and torn:
    my brains are dripping through this song.
    Spike my coffee with some opium,
    sprinkle sugar on my rosy thumb—
    everything is crashing through my head,
    one of these days you're gonna wake up dead.
    Aldebaran is shining in the night.
    Cherry blossoms will bloom so sweet—
    spike my coffee with some opium.
    Sprinkle sugar on my rosy thumb.
    When I sleep, my head explodes.
    All I want is for a little peace;
    cherry blossoms will bloom so sweet.
    When I sleep, my head explodes.
    Everything is so chaotic here...
    all I want is for a little peace.
    Aldebaran is shining in the night.
    Cherry blossoms will bloom so sweet.
    Drinking black milk at the break of dawn,
    my brains are dripping through this song:
    spike my coffee with some opium.
    Sprinkle sugar on my rosy thumb—
    everything is crashing through my head—
    one of these days you're gonna wake up dead.
    My head explodes. My head explodes. My head—my head—my head explodes—my head explodes.
    Everything is so chaotic here...
    all I want is for a little peace.
    Aldebaran is shining in the night.
    Cherry blossoms will bloom so sweet.
    Drinking black milk at the break of dawn,
    my brains are dripping through this song:
    spike my coffee with some opium.
    Sprinkle sugar on my rosy thumb—
    everything is crashing through my head—
    one of these days you're gonna wake up dead.
    Spike my coffee with some opium,
    sprinkle sugar on my rosy thumb:
    everything is crashing through my head—
    one of these days you're gonna wake up dead.
    Everything is crashing through my head.
    One of these days you're gonna wake up dead.
    •
    Credits:
    • Evangeline Sutherland
    ——vocals, guitar, synths, production
    5 min
  • Total Prison Abolition
    I initially made this track over the course of about 10 minutes as a sort of affectionate pastiche of blackened crust bands who have thoughtful and intelligent lyrics shrieked in such a manner that they're incomprehensible and you have to read the booklet to get what's being said, as the music proper is made more for cathartic sonic violence than anything.
    Unfortunately my initial lyrics were already pretty thoughtful, my lyrics ended up being pretty coherent, and I'm not sure that the result can really be classified as blackened crust!! And to complicate matters further, I already strongly agreed with the message in the lyrics and I started to genuinely get into the performance!!!!
    So, in the end, please do support Critical Resistance. Any proceeds made from this song's sales will be donated to them, or if you want to skip the middleman, please donate to them here: https://donatenow.networkforgood.org/criticalresistance
    Their main site can be found here: http://www.criticalresistance.org/
    •
    Lyrics:
    Human rights abuses are endemic in the United States. For example, the prison population is higher than that of China, a supposedly more repressive state. Most legal repression is directed at people of colour and other vulnerable populations. We must fight against this unjust and corrupt system with the objective of abolition.
    Total prison abolition now.
    (Thank you very much for listening; please support Critical Resistance.)
    •
    Credits:
    • Evangeline Sutherland
    ——vocals, synths, production
    1 min
  • On the Run
    I wanted to make a neofolk song this morning, so I did. It took me 3 hours. Proud of myself.
    A little existential song for weary times. Like recessions.
    •
    Lyrics:
    This is the world that time has forgot.
    I am the cream that's left behind to rot.
    We are the ones that look for an out
    but we get thrown roundabout.
    This is the way we have to live:
    all that we have, we must give,
    all for this world we must leave.
    There is hardly any time to grieve.
    Find your time, find your life, find your place
    to collapse from running in this race.
    Find your time, find your life, find your place
    to collapse from running in this race.
    Find your time, find your life, find your place
    to collapse from running in this race.
    Find your time, find your life, find your place
    to collapse from running in this race.
    Find your time, find your life, find your place
    to collapse from running in this race.
    Find your time, find your life, find your place
    to collapse from running in this race.
    Find your time, find your life, find your place...
    •
    Credits:
    • Evangeline Sutherland
    ——vocals, guitar, synths, production
    5 min
  • Able Danger
    Google "jury nullification", "Sibel Edmonds", "Operation Gladio", "BCCI bank", "MHCHAOS", "Continuity of Government", "Ptech", "Far West, LLC", and "Otto von Bolschwing, Helene von Damm".
    •
    Lyrics:
    I am the man from the Propaganda Due lodge.
    I am here to throw you in a big hodgepodge
    of lies and truth and strange reality.
    It's far too odd for your little eyes to see.
    It's a clear and able danger
    to follow as it keeps getting stranger.
    You'll never know the world,
    you'll never know what's real.
    You'll never get better if you have no time to heal.
    We are here to put you in a deep state of mind,
    and what you're about to know is very hard to find
    'cause nothing in your head is safe from prying.
    It takes a lot of blood to get you crying.
    It's a clear and able danger
    to follow as it keeps getting stranger.
    You'll never know yourself,
    you'll never know what's there.
    You'll never find rest if you always have a burden to bear.
    It's a clear and able danger
    to follow as it keeps getting stranger.
    You'll never understand,
    you'll never get away.
    You must make peace, 'cause your only option's to stay.
    •
    Credits:
    • Evangeline Sutherland
    ——vocals, synths, production
    4 min
  • Sleep Paralysis
    Sometimes I get flashbacks. This is part and parcel of having C-PTSD.
    One of them came after a nightmare.
    For some reason, the "predicate event" (thing that I remember happening in the dream, but which never happened irl) was that I had viewed a video of a trans woman being murdered outside of my apartment.
    All my friends were posting on Twitter about largely trans topics and I was trying more and more to conceal I was having more and more and more paranoia/ill feelings due to having seen the tape, becoming more and more and more afraid of even sitting in my house.
    And then I began viewing the contents of the video in my dream, and the interesting thing was I wondered about if the perpetrator was a cis woman, at which point I found myself outside my apartment, at the scene of the crime, first running toward the woman about to be killed, and after she was killed running away from the murderer.
    Then I started to wake up.
    But I immediately went into a liminal state, saw myself in relative darkness, and felt like I was being raped while being pushed down on my side; I felt smaller than usual too.
    Then I tried to struggle, realised I wasn't actually moving, relaxed a bit, thought, "Fuck, I'm gonna have to try to enjoy this, huh," and then realised once I was slightly more awake that this was a temporary state, so I stretched out my body from foetal position, woke up, thought, "Well fuck, that was a flashback," then thought "Oh fuck, that was sleep paralysis, haha," then put my hand on my chest, and realised I felt deeply embodied and for some reason very feminine.
    This is an Arc song.
    •
    Lyrics:
    Inside my friends are joking with me,
    outside the Sun is starving to death.
    Climbing in kitchens and filling with fear,
    losing my memory, losing my breath.
    Outside she stands, alone, under threat.
    Inside I watch her murder unfold.
    Stabbed by a woman consumed by fear,
    her life's story forever untold.
    I crouch and curl up and cower in terror—
    the hands of the Empire reach into my dream
    and make me a hypnagogue, trapped 'twixt realities—
    the truth I must face is not what it seems.
    (Even in dreams, I am not secure;
    the safety of sleep offers me no cure
    or refuge for my broken head.
    Perhaps devils lurk within my bed.)
    The murderess pins me down to the table
    as flesh enters flesh and I can't move away
    from the NOTHING inside me, realer than real,
    that breaks me, transfixes me, seizes my day.
    I move to escape but I'm held back harder.
    Darkness increases, brutality swells.
    I'm supposed to be safe and snug in my bed,
    but I'm gone in my head, plunged into Hell.
    I say to myself, "Well, just lie back and enjoy it,
    you're not getting out of this anytime soon."
    And I couldn't move, and it just hurt so much,
    reality itself seemed to be out of tune.
    And then I awoke, and I felt like shit—
    At home in my body for the very first time.
    This kind of suffering can shape who you are,
    but it's without reason, it just has no rhyme.
    •
    Credits:
    • Evangeline Sutherland
    ——vocals, guitar, timbrel, production
    5 min
  • Bullshit War
    John Bolton, Trump, and the rest of their fetid administration are pushing for war with Iran. As of the writing of this, all non-emergency State Department personnel are being recalled from Iraq.
    So I got really angry and recorded this in approx. 20 minutes. It's wonky and the timbrel is off-beat but [insert ms paint star with "i tried" in Comic Sans here].
    This administration has been nothing but a massive operation to get disgraced Reagan and Bush administration warmongers and criminals back into positions of power and influence even though they should actually be rotting in a prison in the Hague.
    Say no to war with Iran or any other country. No war but the class war.
    Permanent free download (with original files): www.archive.org/details/BullshitWar
    Lyrics:
    FUCK THE GOVERNMENT FUCK THEM ALL
    LINE THEM UP AT THE FUCKING WALL
    FUCK JOHN BOLTON AND HIS WAR WITH IRAN
    EVERY WAR IS A FUCKING SCAM
    BULLSHIT WARS
    BULLSHIT REASONS
    IT'S HUNTING TIME
    POLITICIAN SEASON
    WE DON'T WANT
    YOUR FUCKING WAR
    INSURRECTION OF
    THE GLOBAL POOR
    ALL OF THEM SHOULD BE DOING TIME
    IN THE HAGUE FOR THEIR STINKING CRIMES
    WE WILL NEVER KISS THEIR ASS
    LET'S MAKE WAR ON THE RULING CLASS
    BULLSHIT WARS
    BULLSHIT REASONS
    IT'S HUNTING TIME
    POLITICIAN SEASON
    WE DON'T WANT
    YOUR FUCKING WAR
    INSURRECTION OF
    THE GLOBAL POOR
    BULLSHIT WARS
    BULLSHIT REASONS
    IT'S HUNTING TIME
    POLITICIAN SEASON
    WE DON'T WANT
    YOUR FUCKING WAR
    INSURRECTION OF
    THE GLOBAL POOR
    Credits:
    Personnel:
    • Evangeline Sutherland (except where otherwise noted)
    ——vocals, guitar, timbrel, production, art, design
    Notes:
    All lyrics written by Evangeline Sutherland.
    All music composed by Evangeline Sutherland.
    Instruments and equipment used: a Shure SM57 microphone, a Steinberg UR22mkII USB audio interface, a Kona K394D acoustic guitar, a Remo timbrel, and Audacity.
    2 min
  • Bella Ciao
    A song of the Partisans who fought fascism in Italy. As they recruited people to fight against the despotism of Mussolini, they would sing this hymn to rally the people.
    This song emphasises the universal human longing for freedom and equality.
    Today, the torch is carried by those who wish to overthrow the oligarchy and its evils.
    Dedicated to the brave warriors of the YPG and YPJ in Rojava, who are fighting fascism in the form of DAESH, to all anti-fascists wherever they fight, and to Stjepan Filipović, martyred by the Croatian Ustaše, whose immortal last words ring out through history:
    'Death to fascism! Freedom to the people!'
    •
    Lyrics:
    Una mattina mi son svegliato—
    o bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao!
    Una mattina mi son svegliato
    e ho trovato l'invasor.
    O partigiano, portami via—
    o bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao!
    O partigiano, portami via,
    ché mi sento di morir.
    E se io muoio da partigiano—
    o bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao!
    E se io muoio da partigiano,
    tu mi devi seppellir.
    Seppellire lassù in montagna—
    o bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao!
    E seppellire lassù in montagna
    sotto l'ombra di un bel fior.
    E le genti che passeranno—
    o bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao!
    E le genti che passeranno
    ti diranno «Che bel fior!»
    «È questo il fiore del partigiano—
    o bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao!
    È questo il fiore del partigiano
    morto per la libertà!»
    «È questo il fiore del partigiano
    morto per la libertà!»
    •
    English lyrics:
    It is one morning that I awakened—
    oh bella ciao! bella ciao! bella ciao! ciao! ciao!
    It is one morning that I awakened
    and I found the invader.
    Oh my dear partisan, take me far—
    oh bella ciao! bella ciao! bella ciao! ciao! ciao!
    Oh my dear partisan, take me far,
    for I know that death has me.
    And if I die as a partisan—
    oh bella ciao! bella ciao! bella ciao! ciao! ciao!
    And if I die as a partisan,
    I want you to bury me.
    So bury me upon the mountain—
    oh bella ciao! bella ciao! bella ciao! ciao! ciao!
    So bury me upon the mountain
    under the flower of beauty.
    And all the people who pass my grave—
    oh bella ciao! bella ciao! bella ciao! ciao! ciao!
    And all the people who pass my grave
    will tell me, 'What a lovely sight!'
    'This is the flower that guards the fighter—
    (oh bella ciao! bella ciao! bella ciao! ciao! ciao!)
    This is the flower that guards the fighter
    who died for all our liberty!'
    'Oh yes, the flower that guards the fighter—
    who died for all our liberty!'
    •
    Credits:
    • Evangeline Sutherland
    ——vocals, production, guitar, translation
    • Anonymous
    ——lyrics, composition
    3 min
  • Roman Moloch Blues
    'Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgment! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments!
    'Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies! Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb!
    'Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose factories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose smoke-stacks and antennae crown the cities!
    'Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the Mind!
    '[…]
    'Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs! skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic industries! spectral nations! invincible madhouses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!'
    —Allen Ginsberg, 'Moloch'
    '"The Empire never ended," Fat quoted to himself. That one sentence appeared over and over again in his exegesis; it had become his tag line. Originally the sentence had been revealed to him in a great dream. In the dream he again was a child, searching dusty used-book stores for rare old science fiction magazines, in particular Astoundings. In the dream he had looked through countless tattered issues, stacks upon stacks, for the priceless serial entitled "The Empire Never Ended." If he could find it and read it he would know everything; that had been the burden of the dream.
    'Prior to that, during the interval in which he had experienced the two-world superimposition, had seen not only California, U.S.A., of the year 1974 but also ancient Rome, he had discerned within the superimposition a Gestalt shared by both space-time continua, their common element: a Black Iron Prison. This is what the dream referred to as "the Empire." He knew it because, upon seeing the Black Iron Prison, he had recognized it. Everyone dwelt in it without realizing it. The Black Iron Prison was their world.
    '[…]
    'Once, in a cheap science fiction novel, Fat had come across a perfect description of the Black Iron Prison but set in the far future. So if you superimposed the past (ancient Rome) over the present (California in the twentieth century) and superimposed the far future world of "The Android Cried Me a River" over that, you got the Empire, the Black Iron Prison, as the supra- or trans-temporal constant. Everyone who had ever lived was literally surrounded by the iron walls of the prison; they were all inside it and none of them knew it—except for the gray-robed secret Christians.'
    —Philip K. Dick, 'VALIS'
    May the Empire fall, and may the Kingdom be inaugurated.
    •
    Lyrics:
    Woke up this morning,
    opened up the newspaper.
    There's no good news today,
    just war and genocide.
    Roman Consul lying,
    people blindly believing,
    conquering for Empire,
    making sure that millions die.
    Just makes me wanna sing the blues all day.
    Just makes me wanna sing the blues all night.
    Just makes me wanna sing the blues every hour,
    just 'cause there's no respite.
    Went down to work and did
    some mindless drudgery,
    just alienated
    from God-damn everything:
    Doing work for Cæsar,
    not for my own self,
    not for anyone else.
    Ground up inside Moloch's jaws.
    Just makes me wanna sing the blues all day.
    Just makes me wanna sing the blues all night.
    Just makes me wanna sing the blues every hour,
    just 'cause there's no respite.
    Just makes me wanna sing the blues all day.
    Just makes me wanna sing the blues all night.
    Just makes me wanna sing the blues every hour,
    just 'cause there's no respite.
    Just 'cause there's no respite.
    Just 'cause there's no respite.
    Just 'cause there's no respite.
    •
    Credits:
    • Evangeline Sutherland
    ——vocals, production, guitar, synths, lyrics, composition
    3 min

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'Enlightenment, understood in the widest sense as the advance of thought, has always aimed at liberating human beings from fear and installing them as masters. Yet the wholly enlightened earth is radiant with triumphant calamity.'