When Sharks Attack//thanks, kat

Jurassic Five - Swing Set (DJ Yoda Mix)
The 45 King - Too Damn Funky
The Cool Kids - 88
Ratatat - Mumtaz Khan
Diplo - Shhake It Up (Twist and Shout)
Clark - Volcan Veins
Gnarls Barkley - Going On
El Guincho - Kalise

// hiphop.electronica.dance.glitch.pop. \\


please bear with me as we work on this space. it's summer time, and this page needs a tan.
let's celebrate with some uppity tunes, awright? these go out to make someone dance.

a million points to ks for helping out. if someone had invented a teleportation device, I'd totally teleport you some ice cream and a batch of cookies.

Here's to you, girl.

- tgrs

// composition by ks \\

"Holding, Tightly"//i never said never

Animal Collective - Chocolate Girl (Live Radio Session)
CocoRosie - By Your Side
Patrick Watson - Sleeping Beauty
Kria Brekkan - Wildering
Belong - Girl From New York

// experiementalpop.atmospheric \\




I hope this finds you well,
your mind at ease and your smile contagious.


Do you remember how to stretch your teeth
across a human neck?
Do you remember how to wrench a heart
without a single breath?
Or what it takes to make a man
crumble in regret?
Or what you need to feel alive
when all we have is death?

I think you do, because today has been remarkably brighter than the last.

(i hope you are listening close enough; i give more of myself away with each note)

- tgrs

// illustration by ks \\

to the girl who spells made-up words//Remind Me, Merlin

Amon Tobin - My Love (Live Mix, Chicago Jan. 2008)
Aphex Twin - Heliosphan
Kings of Convenience - The Weight of My Words (Four Tet Remix)

// experimental.abstractbeats.electronica \\

to the girl who spells made-up words,
I'm hooked on your fiction
like a bad case of nose friction
each sniff closer to a night of attrition
and this mission is sniffing
so let's get to shifting
a million decibels of druggie bitch fixings
take it, take as is and let's get the twirls
dance tight when your fingers stick curls
fast, grab, and pull, dance with powder pearls
drink up, girl, let's soak this rush
with diamond coated pills, this ruby crush
cheeks flushed
alright, a drug bust,
I knew it would happen
when we let love lust.

HEY

okay, that's enough kids, break it up -
the truth is out and the truth takes shit
spins it wild, fucks with it,
crafts it solid into something sick.
what time when the world stops still?
does the clock drip down from a clock-soaked sill,
into a puddle of colors and a flood of thrill;
we lap at the red and sift through the blue
and take turns laughing as we melt into
a renaissance painting of a sanity zoo
where me, you, and robot too,
get lost together in a watercolor coup.

HEY

i think we'll be fine
drenched in cheap wine
with Spanish mimes
reading Shakespeare lines
under the moonlight shine
and remember, this time
you can't run, you can't hide,
it's better to pretend we both tried
and met in the middle with hands tied.
but atleast this heat never made me lie.

- tgrs

// illustration by ks \\

call it optimism, so what?//I Miss You

CocoRosie - God Has A Voice, She Speaks Through Me
Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti - For Kate I Wait
Quiet Village - Victoria's Secret
Ratatat - Shiller


// alternativepop.psychedelic.electronica.dub \\




Let's play a game.




I'll write you a thousand words, and you pretend to read them all. You fall in love, you kiss my eyelids, and together we'll drift into a distant sleep. But here's the catch: when I wake up, you have to be there. You can't runaway; not this time. Not again.

"But what if the moon hides behind a thousand clouds, and the temperature drops below a river's chill, and my ankles turn blue with the midnight frost?"

Then we'll play another game.

I'll wrap you up in blankets woven with heaven's thread and roast little fires underneath those skinny ankles, until the blue blends back deep into the river's crest; a kiss of water will then greet your thirst and not your warmth, so cradled in love and handled with admiration. When your cheeks flush crimson clear, I'll part my grasp to let you run in circles, naked and blissful, dancing to a mental beat you've crafted in sleep and the witches have warned their children to keep, but for years you've lived so close to their homes that you can recite the devil's case in words of praise and melodies with acid laced; I won't move, just watch, and listen, with my ears comfortable to listen forever.

"But what if my voice cracks, my heels snap, my beat lags, or your ears gag? My tone could drop, my prance could stop, and then where does that leave me? Warm and silent, an audience silenced because their idol stands quiet? I couldn't bear."

For that, here's my last...

A test, a game, a fortune teller's dream; I can see you may stumble with this newfound glee of running a race with rabbit feet, when all you thought you'd need was a working clock and a bag of rocks that shocked the time as your hare heels walked right through the next decade's chase; together we are here, and forever may come a minute late, but if you're willing to wait, be patient, be patient! and forever comes for love and saves.

- tgrs

// illustration by ks \\

I Can't Hope To Understand//like a shark, I swim hungry

Jonny Greenwood - Open Spaces
Ted Lucas - Raga in D
Bibio - It Was Willow
Bjork - Desired Constellation
Radiohead - Cuttooth
Nine Inch Nails - 25 Ghosts III

*fixed all links*









// orchestra.acoustic.newage.atmosphericpop.alternativerock.soundscape \\


I've run too many laps to feel how great the sloth may overtake, but the ease with which you slaughter a clock's marathon with idle purpose disturbs the eager soul beneath your chest. I can hear it roar and snap from between your lungs, a painful scream for attention that causes your veins to vibrate with anticipation; but you rub your arms quiet and rest longer, the desire to rise and run too little to push. How fast does this security hold, how stubborn must the stars align to show a world beyond yet close enough for you to find; I have walked many wearisome paths, and come across too many ends, to understand why you waste your feet and settle home when the world with arms desperately open waits for you.

Maybe you need incentive, and have found none thus far. Fair enough, I think, so now I must, with toes subdued and ankles made useless, discover the mystery that weakens your nomadic soul and curious heart. I will start at the beginning, when we first met:

In a playground you sat deep on a swing that took you far enough up high that I thought you may soar, but fast you clung to those rusted protecting chains. The first thing I noticed about you was the way your eyes lit up as the your feet crossed the treeline and the sun met your smile with his. I knew then you could find the Fountain of Youth if only you let go of those creaking links.

Like a tape skipping, slipping, and sputtering, now I find you sitting on a park in a haze of bliss and psychedelia. That burning star is falling behind midnight's army of thick cloud, but your sunglasses are stalwart protectors that will stay on your face until the sunset battle is resolved. The grass is poking up at your feet and entwining your toes as you yearn to jump into the arms of mystery (I can tell), but something on that damp field kept you seated; I watch you ignore what your heart beats and why your ears ringand how your eyes burn whenever he comes near. You could have the romance of two doves on the Arc enjoying the rain, only because they are together, and the rain is beautiful to watch when you perch close to the wings of a heavenly lover.

We come now to a new vision, a doveless venture that finds the earth dry and wanting. You have no reason to run, no feeling of youth coursing through your blood, no desire to discover what else could possibly exist beyond your safe radius of unpleasant stability. You sleep awake and walk tired from one room into another, turning each door handle with apathetic disgust that exhausts your entire soul. You are killing yourself with sleepless dreams that take you farther than you are willing to ever go, and now I must put down this typing pen and cry, cry for what you used to be, cry for the beauty you used to embody, cry for the joy you once kept in your smiles, cry for the adventure you once started but never saw through, cry for the course your life is set, and cry for that dwindling flame in your half-shut eyes.

I hope you heed my words and open a new window this evening; take off those guardians of sunlight, and stare deep into the sky's stubborn stars, read their intentions with excited thrill and then gallop out of your brick enclave. I hope you remember that child who aimed high with a swing, smoked deep with curiosity, and loved unconditionally. If that child has died, then I beg you to light a new fire, with equal parts pleasure and dolor, so there is sufficient spark to throw yourself deep into a new mystery, an awakened life that finds colors only the enlightened eyes can use to paint their walls a beautiful Picasso.

- tgrs