This is Our Music

by Pure Evil Trio

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credits

released January 1, 2004

Az - Guitar/Vocals, Abel - Bass/Vocals, John - Drums

Recorded by Beau Sherrard at Q Studios, 2002.
Mastered by Tim Carr at 301.
Originally released on 12inch vinyl by Appliances & Cars / Broken Rain, 2004.

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about

Pure Evil Trio Australia

Born of colliding chaos and the noise of the raging elements.

Dead from the neck down, October 2014.

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Track Name: The Mechanics of Psychological and Emotional Destruction
The stitches are loose. The world is collapsing. The stitches are loose. It's falling apart. Unstitch the head. Remove all the contents and lay them to rest. Cut out the heart. Drain all the blood off and leave it to rot. We stole your life.
Track Name: You Are Completely Alone
Memory collapsed in flickering space. Dark formless beyond. Vison burned. Dense. Touch, lonely connection. Erased limbs fade on pages. Surface, skin slams shut. Feel existence dying, or something more? Life-forms reach free alone. Dying is a lifelong occupation.
Track Name: Discrete Entities
I'm drawing another arbitrary line in the sand. Another boundary between you and me and us and them. It's under both our noses but only one can see. One pigeonhole, one neat groove, one island surrounded by sea. Discrete entities floating suspended in a matrix of love, hate, indifference and anxiety disorders. O for an inner-tube or an outward perspective.
Track Name: Dismembered with Paper Cuts
Stop the presses! Smash the cameras! This is poison, spit on pages and spewed on film disguised as news.
Track Name: Passing Notes in School
I just wanted to say goodbye. Words spill and scatter, as useless as reality. The days that follow have no meaning. I just keep breathing. I don't know why. It makes no sense, and there is no point. Unless I choose one. You make me want to. Goodbye.
Track Name: Warning! Spleen Venting!
Sick of running on broken legs. Nowhere to go. No where to go but down. Bottomless. I can't see the end. Welcome to the first day of the rest of your li(f)e.
Track Name: (untitled)
The real world talks down to me. Sounds like nails on a chalkboard, grating on my mind. I don't think I've ever seen a blue sky, just seething grey and black and a dying sun spitting dim light down. Illuminate our pitiful lives. I hate this. Stomach full of spiders, mind full of the same. Fuck this world that hates me. When the ground caves in I'll learn to fucking fly.
Track Name: Strike at the Conformity Factory
SHUT UP AND WORK. BE QUIET, JUST WORK.
No.
BUY. DON'T QUESTION.
CREATIVITY IS ONLY REWARDED WHEN IT CAN BE TAXED AND COMMODIFIED.
They cast us with mental scars. CONFORM.
The Man controls all your life. CONFORM.
They tell you your thoughts.
But not today. Now we throw down our styles.
Strike! Strike at the conformity factory. Strike! Strike!
Go! Take your life in your own hands. You're you, I'm me, for you, for me. Creativity is only rewarded when it can be taxed and commodified... Don't let that stop you.