The concept of a song is usually defined as an organization of sounds and their respective instruments governed in some musical order with the boundary lines of its state being the extent of the backing rhythm. Secret Mommy brings us to a dark dystopian future where this concept has been ritualistically raped, order shorn and penetrated by many combating aural forces, all vying for to impose their control on the hysteria that has come over the soundscape. Melody and rhythm have no longer know their place, confusing themselves, ignorant of their limits.
The song goes at a regular pace for a little bit, bringing some semblance of regularity to the Song, if anyone could call it that, but there is something, a conniving bugger of a violin slinking through the halls of the of the establish rhythm’s headquarters, its footsteps echoing in interference and its brandished knife already shearing the somewhat resolute atmosphere into dissolution once again. The violin conquers the rhythm, has it begging, and in desperation, the rhythm lets itself be toyed with, contorting to Violin’s will before Violin tears through him, only to have some other miscellaneous sound who wants control for himself with his knife to Violin’s heartstrings, and then someone behind him to put a stab in his back, all the way down the line in one connective orgy of musical mutiny, sounds shorn and penetrated.
It’s amazing what one can get used to, even love after a while. For a humble citizen of this chaotic state, a bystander listening to the clashing chorus like music to my ears, it’s pretty sweet. There are no rules of conduct, how one should carry oneself, what one should be appalled at or not. Anarchy is quite freeing, and I’m not the one who’s stupid enough to keep killing himself trying to reach the top of the shitheap, so how can I care? I can’t imagine why anyone would try to take control when there is all of this freedom to bask in and enjoy. What instruments or sounds would willingly throw themselves into this disasterous mess that, while the consequences are quite beautiful for my ears and anybody elses who is just chillin’, it doesn’t seem natural to throw yourself away like that. It seems like something must be pushing the sounds into it, that someone…something is orchestrating all of this this calamity for me…
…Oh right, the Secret Mommy is.
Matmos – The Rose Has Teeth in the Mouth of a Beast
The Books – Lost and Safe
Winning – This is An Ad For Cigarettes