A New Phase of Tox – Kitz Willman (2019)
banned era records
- Weapons, Ahh!!
- Email from the Old Country
- Ste. Dominique’s Forest
- Roses Heave
- Lemon Zinger
- Detained in Banduristan
- Longueuil non-soniq
- Food Court Roller Coaster Zamboni Methodology
- Bark of the Border Collie (The Trumpet Finely Sounded)
- Don Draper’s Grandson
- Working Away
- Watch What Happens When a Normal Human Being Watches TV
- My Body is a Cage
- Paradise Found
an album of necessity, a new phase of tox arose when separated from comfort. disconnected from the arm rest and the water tap. hunched over, unable to hotkey, travelling to stationary after stationary, what else to do but continue spilling?
improvisation is fundamental to this project. planning around blueprints around demos around streaming services gets stale. is stale. a new phase of tox about where music needn’t be. a new phase of tox about the same old shit. a new phase of tox about the value of an artist. a new phase of tox about what it means to mean. to middle. to average. to age appropriate questions of gratitude, sanctity. a rag in the gas tank of a cop cruiser. sampling self. returning, or rather, visiting for the first time with my own self. how do i sound spoken?
take with this your daily fly.
and breach-buying drapes.
we step on worry like grapes.
it take tiiiiiiiime.
i have a photo of a piano chord chart favourited on my tellular phone. i have only had a saxophone touch my lips when spring turned to summer and summer faded into the fall. archived recordings. archive recording. permission seekers sitting in the bleachers. a new phase of tox about what it means to concoct. to culd. to spill like honey jars, sharding slowly. patient.
a new phase of whatever the skull companies don’t want. don’t find intrinsically tied to numbers on their rectangle in only certain apps. to pale blue lips. to numb the noses of baby birds who are patient, resting.
again, it take time.
the first time i ever held a bandura, i was sitting by a fireplace somewhere in between Banduristan and Kolonianada. far from any anthropology conference, the secrets spilled out. i was briefly detained before being resurrected in the same place as my dad’s dad’s mother which is to say my grandpa’s mother which is to say my great grandmother which is to exclaim “why?!” but sounding more like sheho. it take time to accustomize to chuzyna, lest we assimilate first or claw back against tombstone erosion. but we never bury near water. we always bury near water. we never burn a body. we always burn a body.
i manufacture and sell weapons.
cops are those who
carve out people’s souls
causing only painful shrieks
condemning our peaceful streets
curing only profit saliva
cull or proliferate sanctity
colonially officiate peaceless settlements
demoted, internal ends
piled into graves speedily
i do not appreciate police or policing. and i certainly won’t ask permission to say so. why would i ask for anything less than eradication of the law? of the colonial laws? of academic hazing? of the concocted imaginary of trespass? of anything declared popely by Tommaso Parentucelli? of some guy who say colonialism and slavery are ill and i wear a big hat born by shades of smoke so let that be that? of disciplinary thought? of newspapers owned by forceful decision-makers peddling rags of war? i contest. i do not accept the corporations born of anything authorized by militarized police, north, west, royal, canadian, or otherwise. i do not accept the myths of nation or a corporation depicted as person.
self-recorded, self-produced, self-released, it’s a new phase of tox about improvisational freestyle music and the goals of algorithmic taste.
you cannot stream forever. lockbox token breach.
weapons sell and manufacture i.
released November 26, 2019
Kitz Willman – saxophone, bandura, guitar, piano, drums, synthesizers, vocals, voice, sampling, lyrics, poetry, field recordings, art design, archival searches, and any & all additional instrumentation.
Sydney, Nova Scotia
Cheticamp, Nova Scotia
banned era records
*track 13 lyrics written by Jeremy Gara, Regine Chassagne, Richard R. Parry, Tim Kingsbury, William Butler, and Win Butler.