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The Counting

by Refusal Knot

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1.
The monster in the cupboard wants to control me It said "Fancy a game of 'Break As Many Antiques As You Can'" Now we all know that these kinds of people are sore losers But he doesn't care He just insists that I do all the work around here Grab your suitcases and trap him Because he's just another nuisance to this nightmare of a home Yes, he's just another nuisance to this nightmare of a home
2.
Buzzsaw 08:06
The crests lay upon the wall Blood, sweat and tears intermittently scrawled Chivalry hanging by long thick metal wires Blued steel in front of a raging fire Skulls rain from the ceiling and sky Black, red and yellow, like the emblems implied It's time to face the coat of arms and say your personal prayer Because when the banner strikes you down you'll wish you were theirs It's a bit hard living in one dimension You never quite know which direction you're going Sudden skyquakes knock everything over Like a regular Mr. Game and Watch, game over Sometimes everything looks different I see clay converging and changing Some have called my home a fracture From the wonky drawings half seen The bleats of royal men, individuals and cohorts Get up on your feet and watch their attitudes contort Running for your life, you climb the scaffold with gusto and faith Jump in the crowd, kill the hordes, we have a brand new saint Now you are the one who carries on Continue the craft of generations long gone Something to stare at in awe and glee But one of the others must go. Which one will it be?
3.
Sleeping stone that lost the war Shifting slowly towards the world Subterranean warrior Unredeemed against the horror The grinding sinews given flesh Synaptic disarray blessed Memory corridors don't know This rematch that's been bestowed Don't look into her eyes Granite more than a disguise Hydra snake heads cobra spit Supernatural will trump wit No mirrors in this cold underworld Water drained as chaos unfurls Nowhere at all yet everywhere Echos reverbate like stares Hissing sounds as stones crack slowly Terror rises, wind starts blowing Never seen while concrete envelops A lone soldier of thousands blocked Stalactite splits her head The beast has fallen dead Pavement turns flesh once more Frozen in time, abhorred
4.
Noodle Moon 01:29
5.
A-Prior 04:10
Push me into the ground I don't know where the hell I am There are men knocking each other out The salt of the earth has dehydrated the soles of my feet I'll wash it all down once I get out of here No exit sign; deceitful language Restore me
6.
Watch as I burn the midnight oil, tossing and turning with every step without a second's thought, solving complex problems and memorizing long patterns inside my mind. I know that I am doomed. Destruction was imminent from the very start. When you destroy something you are sacrificing its total value for something far better than what it used to be. Many have tried and it had brought them nothing but good fortune. Not me, I'm just a lonely kid waiting for his turn to leave the nest. Above me is the ceiling made of asbestos and the popcorn patterns that I've become so familiar with. There are cobwebs forming. They were made by a huge horde of spiders crawling across it. I wouldn't destroy them, that would be cruelty, and I would get nothing out of it. I want them to live with me. I want them to be my new family. I want to pray with them at the dinner table every night, thanking them for what they've done to me, and how I can continue living. I want them to make my bed my burrow. I thread floss through my nose and out my mouth so that they have something to suck on, especially the babies. I hope these spiders continue to make me an abode, so that I can escape this dreaded reality and enter the fantasy I have always wished for. I know it won't be easy, but I assure you it will be worth it. So what are you supposed to do when your daily bread goes stale?
7.
Clear 05:25
We’ve all broken a heart And maybe a bone Sometimes a tooth Probably bread Let’s raise a glass To a broken soul We can take the projection And put it above The highest vibration So it can make its way to heaven Fiat money is accepted Pay what you want Keep it floating in the vortex Until the green light is switched off
8.
The Counting 04:37
Cyclone circle Endless hurdle By this we can still grow Weather shifting I am drifting Into expansive glow Never let this go Scavenge like a crow Tranquillity sown Shifting within bone Becoming endless With growing swiftness Our cascading hope The serene grope From black to gold The healing cold Contrasts perpetuate throughout Naked cities Concrete pretty Away from desert drought
9.
10.
Hexagram 25 09:50
Picture, if you will, a shrine with length 1 on all sides. It's made of marble and surrounded by a moat. Entering the shrine you notice four altars, one in each corner of the (only) room. The light reflecting off of them shoots straight up to a white object on the ceiling, and no one has been able to see the etching carved within it without being struck blind. The indecipherable has left me oblivious. There's no need to take it further. I can divert my intelligence elsewhere. I don't need to know the most important questions of life and be left with a debt I will never repay in full. It's as if I'm returning to something elastic, like a cartoon. Claymation. Stop motion. Devotion. Flexible, indestructible, and INNOCENT. Put down the wine and sponge, break the lock (digest it if necessary), and remove the garments that forbid you of sight. Roam in the fields, the public parks, the playgrounds we used to thrive in. Bathe your room in the fluorescent white light of a surgeon, and extract the darkness that covers the floor. Rejecting the law intentionally to unmask your true self, the baby-faced soul whose life is defined by the caesium atom. It's only after we shed the dead cells that we view the world with literal fresh new eyes, as if every day was the first day. The following day a crowd impossible to number were bathed in a saturated orange light, their flesh illuminated by the twinkling of the dust particles blowing in the wind. The light's intensity grew but their eyes were not affected, for they knew they had risen above the darkness clouding the people forever.

about

Here it is: the debut album that took longer than we thought to make is finally here. We laboriously influenced ourselves and crafted a series of compositions to boggle minds while having fun in the process (isn't that what creativity is?). Dunno what else there is to say about it.
For fans of Voivod, Primus, King Crimson, Neurosis, and Pan.Thy.Monium.

Dedicated to Tim Smith and Genesis Breyer P-Orridge

credits

released August 1, 2020

Sanity Theorist: bass, guitars, vocals, keyboards, darbouka, guiro, not hang drum, production, mastering
Rrattlesnake: drums, percussion, vocals, bass, guitar, samples, production

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Refusal Knot Toronto, Ontario

what happens when a musician and a non-musician work together? hell. that's what happens.

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