Light a candle. Draw the required sigils. Now, raise your arms above your head and slowly, gently, exhale your soul. You won’t need it here. This is Audioccult, and it’s time to get low. Illustration: SHALTMIRA
EINSTÜRZENDE NEUBROTEN GOT HE EGO FÜTTERED BY YU (m4w)
Saw you admiring my goatee from across the bar while I loudly talked to my friends. As our voices became higher and higher, rising to the shrieking pitch of tea-kettles, you began to walk away faster and faster as we followed you through the streets, our jaws gnashing in the manner of beasts. Thought there was something there? Would love to find out more.
LET THE BONDS OF MAN’S LAWS SLIP AWAY (w4m)
Thanks to specific zoning law in place where I was born, I am technically classified as a non-commercial bodega. Because of this, I exist outside the absurd laws of man. Nothing stands in my way, except you (tall, handsome, smacking lips and tongue rapidly outside Quiznos on Fraser and 10th).
A NEW SYNTHESIS…TOGETHER? (m4w)
We were together in the club the moment trap became post-trap. Whirling drops and clangs transformed into the gentle pit-pat of baby feet. Too weak to throw our hands up, all we could do was look pleadingly into each others’ eyes as Lex Luger was crucified above us on wall of thorns. As the fabric which binds this reality began to dissolve into the ether, I couldn’t help but notice your Harlem Shake parody t-shirt with Master Shake. Good shit! Let’s chat?
Published March 04, 2013. Words by Daniel Jones.