Magic Fades & Soul Ipsum Zirconia Collapse

[Apothecary Compositions; 2017]

Rating: 3.5/5

Styles: lush club, synth-noise
Others: Angel 1, The Golden Donna, Riohv, Earth Boys

A laser beam on a palm tree.
A dream only half-real.
A tense, sudden rhythm.
But MIDI that eases that.

& structured lushness, numbingly,
Scoffed in the mingling.
A faux guitar, but a real, authentic solo.
Authentically inauthentic.
Voices, as if in transmission.

Then, then
A relationship between various timbres &
The sensations they produce are
Softened into the foliage of Dawn.
A neon darkness, a scene with harps.
Cherubim, offices, & the
Motivational posters inside those offices.
Doctor’s room, shoes, YMCA.

Inundation, mobile arrangements.
Synth as an appendage,
Utilizing the weaponry of rhythm.
New Age incantations emerge from this
Minimalism & eco-futurism;
Thick synth pads form the apotheosis of
An Erotic Ideal.

Silken, flower-drenched, phoenix-infested.
A chill wind in a dim path of the twilight with
NIKES — bright orbs of fog ice-like
Above the grass of Sound like
Marl or marble or at
A criss-cross between
Some sort of silty feeling
& its escape into ego-less fluidity.

Smooth towers, smooth jazz
All about the office hi-rise.
A series of terrains on which a story,
As delicately curved as the antennae of moths,
Ekes out of the machinery.
A story like: how to relax underneath
Capitalism’s multidimensional clench.
How to go back in time & arrive in the
Future. How to use machinery to
Produce something organic, &
Ultimately, how to contest what
That means.

Each song glistens, turning apples into
Plastic, & turning plastic into drinkable
Water. This work takes all the genres it wants
To embody in a quasi-sarcastic light,
Obsessed with the desire to
Accelerate, & afterward, collapse.
(Keyword: collapse.)

The thick lows & silky highs sound as
Clear as anything you might lay
Your eyes on: gemstones in rivers
In fairytales; a city honeycombed by
Silver towers; a winter storm in the
Eye of a telescope; the scent of summer
In an open door; the room of a princess
Besprent with diamonds as small as
 Snowflakes.

Yeah,
It darkens the soul; it lightens the soul.
Zirconia Collapse is a poetics of the
Inevitable Earthquake of our Lives.

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