1. |
Invisible Man
02:05
|
|||
|
In search of a life of passion I was pulled deep in the trenches
Between fierce anger and mystic romance— so lost in the grips of their clenches,
Pillars of unfaltering heat kept me warm enough in the dark
To swim back and forth to both spectrum ends of this farce;
Songs of retribution against oppressive hands
Still do not validate an individual stance;
Yet utopian happiness is a carrot on a stick,
And valueless to the good life it contradicts.
A simple blockade: lack of self discipline,
Revolution without revolution;
Hedonism only births banality—
Nothing of distinction.
|
||||
2. |
Morning Sun
02:51
|
|||
|
Primitive urges of passion deprive us of control,
In the ecstatic moments we ignore what they stole;
The light caught your skin— it made my image whole.
Cigarette smoke met the rays from the windows as you exhaled.
The morning sun left our skin overexposed and pale.
You closed the blinds to ignore the threats
That the sun made to burn the bed.
Bathed in each other's sweat as the newborn darkness drew shadows
Upon your body— the sun could not share— it could not know.
You closed the blinds to ignore the threats
That the sun made to burn the bed.
|
||||
3. |
A Room in Siberia
00:52
|
|||
|
The pale blue screen shone against your body
As you ached— you groaned in the sensation,
For pain and fear, engulfed in desperation.
I'll stay near so you feel the warmth
And not freeze to death.
|
||||
4. |
Vanishing Mediator
02:42
|
|||
|
To be of use
Is what I'm worth—
An honest attempt
To maintain her affection;
Dog so willing to please,
I'll make our bed
So full of comfort
To fit another's satisfaction.
If you were God I could be your Abraxas to bridge you with your Devil,
And my hysteria will make you well— a Purgatory for your Hell,
With your newfound strength you will be prepared—
Abandon this location; strip it bare.
A transition for your deadlock.
Martyrdom without the stench of death:
A spectre won't rot in your bed,
I'll become an abstraction
And hold you by proxy.
|
||||
5. |
||||
|
I spoke with a priest about the holes in his hands
Which he had gotten from prayer.
And how holiness has made him bleed on everything he touches
Leaving his blessed in terror.
He longs to understand humanity in his holy castle,
Diligent in praise;
Fortified from the world, receiving horrifying wounds
That disturbs his congregations gaze.
So many holy men take numerous paths to hide from their species;
Maybe God is hiding, too, in cathedrals or mountains
To only exist in mystery,
Pondering human condition far from humanity
In microscopic studying,
Stepping back so far, human life becomes like an impressionist painting;
Like Father, like son.
|
||||
6. |
Boredom on All Fronts
02:21
|
|||
|
Among bourgeois and alternates—
The boredom tinges all lifestyle incarnates,
Rebellion without substance—
Replace repression with angry ignorance;
Long live Liberty! Long live drunkeness!
Help me out of this subcultural blindness.
Books collected dust while slogans wore out their voices
And printed themselves on stickers and shirts— and made themselves foundations,
A sneer for the intellectual while the finger on the trigger's too tight,
For "revolutionary elite" and sardonic celebrations;
Embrace the anger— ignore education.
Revolution not bohemian evasion.
|
||||
Haldol Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Current members:
Aaron M- drums
Geoff S- guitar, vocals
Andrew C-
bass
Past members:
Tiff Cheng
Matt Martin
Joey Cantrell
Ryan Saito
Trey Stallings
Sean Flint
... more
If you like Haldol, you may also like:
Layering guitars and saxes over synths and drum machines, this Oakland duo's darkwave is as melodically potent as it is texturally rich.
go to album
featured on Bandcamp Radio Sep 1, 2023
go to album
The Upstairs Museum
by Swan Wash
A new EP from Bloomington, IN's Swan Wash explores present-day precarity through wiry, rhythm-forward darkwave.
go to album
Deathrock that perfectly balances the muscular power of its rhythm section with intricate, melodic guitar.
go to album
The majestic Oakland goth/post-punk group gets ready to release its first LP.
go to album
Shallow Drownings
by Soggy Creep
If you've still got a gas station jacket hanging in your closet, you may love the '90s Olympia punk churn of Soggy Creep.
go to album
Producer/songwriter Benjamin Schurr blends the medieval with the industrial in Rush, writing harrowing songs with a mystical aura.
go to album
