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by thingNY

  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Beautiful 180g audiophile pressing with ten newly engraved scores of the compositions on the album.

    Includes unlimited streaming of minis/Trajectories via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 7 days
    edition of 200 

      $25 USD or more 


  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    With an 8-page booklet containing the lyrics.

    Includes unlimited streaming of minis/Trajectories via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 7 days

      $10 USD or more 


  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $9 USD  or more


Line up the magazines mom's coming over in 12 hours the hamper's spilled over my chairs all my chairs all the milk has spoiled & the cabbage has run away from the crisper run away from my heart my hearse & my horse was lost in the good war was lost in the good war the good war... Deadlines... but my language is erratic & unnecessary (...unnecessary... ...it's sooooo cold...) my fingers aren't doing what they've been told to do since I was 5 years old with scabby knees curly hair & a sense of immortality no sense of purpose & a keenly overdeveloped sense of smell... to do... (Do it! Do it, fingers!) I've pinned the curtains to the wall pinned them tightly down to the wall pinned them tightly to the wall tightly to the wall to the wall the curtains are sky blue I have sky blue curtains pinned to the wall pinned tightly down. Forward my voices to the appropriate figure of authority. Because... the end is here it's up it's committed to 11 eager stereotypes: Self-awareness Vanity Charm Self-loathing Carelessness Crassness Calamity Can-of-soup-alphabetistics Senselessness Sovereignty & Overall behaving like a pussy! (Pussy! Pussy!) The sniper electric he hunts me even now he hunts me in my sleep in my breathy sleeps & whenever I dream... which is to say... never. Hmm... that's odd I seem to have misplaced my will to live I may have left it on my bed under my hoodie... or is it in the chair? 10 minutes go like 10 days when you're rambling or being rambled to (Forget the fucking sauce) Move like a turn more like a turn more like a live execution more like a live execution in my home town with the football field on a Friday night nothing to do nothing to compare (...to compare...) to compare the bitter cold to... so I sit (I'll stand, thank you.) I have a wee seat at the children's desk. At the children's school desk & rant & rave & recite irregular rhymes of Ravel & Rameau & Rupert Murdoch & other such poets & princes & gamble... my life savings on vegetation & equines. That is, static equines & fast vegetation... May I have a sandwich? May I have a soup? May I have a sandwich? May I have a soup? A spoon? A day off? A carton of unfiltered cigarettes & 4...? ... Forgetting my mother's coming I sink into my hard crumbly bed & masturbate & watch 9 hours of Twin Peaks (I forgot how much I loved MacGyver... Word!) The bus didn't stop for me just on & on & on avoiding eye contact making itself unavailable & unbelievable & sore & carelessly cocky about leaving me in the cold with a pound-20 just jingling in my hand just jingling just jingling! (But anyway...) Tossing & turning into my filthy kitchen with the spoiled milk & the devastating appliances & twigs & contours & centipedes & millipedes & millionaires & debonairs & dirt devils & flirt & foul foul foul estates of the states & states & states of the states & more (...& more... ...& more!) & more & more I see myself as part of the no one part of the no one the no one the no one fond of my lack of passion & piano-playing ability. I'm covered... in sand... like an animal... like an animal an animal... cutting.
In a few hours... a few hours... a few days... temper... word in edge-wise... the sun & moon... fall of troy... pastes... ... Unto your own failings ... I am a master chocolatier at a cheap-ass restaurant I start my mornings with straight razors & end my evenings with guilt straight razors & guilt straight razors & isolation I've been there we've all been there there are exercises & there are experiences ones that make you try others that try your patience try your resolve & try the... ... JAMS! ... Tastes.... Upward.... Upward.... Stop.
This is me in a nutshell... How did I get in this nutshell? How... how did I get in... in a nutshell? Is this... is this really...? Oh come on! Who... who makes a nutshell this big... so that people c'n get stuck in it?! I'm alarmed. Should I be alarmed? Should... Don't panic. Breathe. It's just a nutshell. There are ways to get out. There are ways to get out of the nutshells. & then... & then I'm gonna find the bastard piece of shit who's responsible. Put me in a nutshell?!!! I'll put YOU in a nutshell!!!!! Rage, motherfucker, rage! No. Wait. Keep !(on)... Think. I... I was in a cab... driving a cab... I was driving a cab on 440. Just stopped to pick up a Diet Sprite & some Camels. I adjusted my mirrors. I adjusted my body. I adjusted my beret. Goddamn jackel-ass, wet rat! Is this all? This is my lot?! The Frenchmen have theirs. Forgeries. All forgeries! Forgive & forget. Is it my choice of ties? Was it all the television-television? Is it that Whitey's just trying to bring me down? Is it my fear of God? Is it my fear of God? God builds a nutshell. Man takes the nutshell. Man makes alters to God. Man makes alters to nutshell. Man alters God. God alters nutshell. Nutshell grows. Man shrinks. Alters alter each other. God destroys alters. Man destroys God. Nutshell destroys man! Was... was it my vices?... was it... was it my vices? I am a man of God. I am a man of God. I'm a man of God. Man of God. Meatcleaver. Whatever. Man of God. Man of God. Man of God. Want me to ref? Want me to ref? Want me to ref? Cizz. Carse. Unpopular. Threnody. Home & Garden. Anime. Anime. Handjobs. Handjobs. Handjobs. Alcohol. Alcohol. Alcohol. Alcohol. Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. Philadelphia. Philadelphia. Philadelphia. Don't look at me! ...Philadelphia.
The only 1 of 5, brother. The only 1 of 5. Brother, the only 1. I saw your face, brother. I saw your face in the snow, brother. V, brother. I of V, brother. V, brother. I saw your face, brother. I saw your face in the snow, brother. In the glass, brother. On the ground, brother. In the glow of the glass on the frost on the ground, brother. My home, brother. My home, as if up in flames, brother. Gleaming & cold, brother. & the other four, brother? The other four, brother? The other four? Eyes glassy & slightly crossed, brother. Frost-bitten, brother. Frost-bitten & crushed, brother. & I, brother. I of V, brother. The only 1, brother. The only 1 of 5, brother. The only 1 of 5, brother. The only 1.
Blame me/my cause of antidepressants/of 5 to 6 years being tied to/bound to/linked to that suffocating family (& not of my own choice). That cowardly & disf... disfunctive,... disfunct..., superstitious, nauseating pack of manta rays, all vying for if... & all to grab us a case or 2 of Coors Light, pocketing my insurance money, feeding me just enough for/enough to send my condescending mother to the hospital, then get better, then not, then to another child to love her/lover, then to death!
Excuse my rudeness, I said, I haven't slept for weeks, I said, & I've been writing the prose, I said, writing the prose & I've been very dishonest with you & it's not you it's not your fault you can't read at your grade level but if you would please read at your grade level. Oh my god, Lois, I said. Oh my god, Robert, I said. Oh my god, Mr. O'Brien, I said. NO. THIS ONE, LITTLE VERSION OF ME!!! Excuse my rudeness I sometimes forget we're in public you've not hit puberty yet & we're perhaps in full view of god & all, I said. NOT MY PROBLEM, GODDAMNITALL! he said. Excuse my rudeness but you really should know not to touch my sleeve with those sticky little digits, I said. Put... them... uh... there! I said, put it there, I said. You're on your way now remember the lines & spaces Shit? Really? You said. Yeah, I said. FUCK YOUR MOTHER, he said. Shhhhhhhhhhh.... Notice the lines. Notice the spaces. There are, in fact, cases where in every good boy, I said, like you, I said, deserves fudge. But... few boys get the fudge they deserve. If they did, we'd be in a better place, I said. Y'know... as a species, I said. But the facts are clear, Ed. Some good boys get the mumps & some bad boys get silver spoons & some boys REAL FUCKERS THOUGH THEY BE, he said, get to make the rules for the rest of us. ... End gut-busting dollar food, for adiposity costs extra. Eliminate Great Britain's drunken fairies, for alcohol corrupts Englishmen. End gall bladder drainage forever, for acid corrodes endometrium. Engage, Geordi. Beam down, Ferengi. Fuck Alaska. Climb Everest! Even godly boxers do fine fighting all Christmas Eve. Even gorgeous brunettes desire furry fellows & complicated existences. Even great birds die flying fearlessly & close-eyed. Even good boys doth frequently fail at creative endeavors... ... & you're no different, slick.
My condition: Staples/staples of my diet are interfering/are interfering/are interfering with my pastels & super/super/superficialities. My pastels are coming to a simmer... then a gentle boil. My condition has worsened. I've made some poor choices in the staples of my fucking diet! My condition is wrestling, warping, wearing, decaying, stark, stuffing, steak, sturgeon, steamed, still, stale, brought to a gentle simmer but stale/stale/stale! Not in MY house. Cabins of slavish, starving children making me work a sweat-t-t-t-t-t-t-t/a soul/a soul Staples/staples of my diet are interfering with the/with the goddamn pastels of the universe. Super/super/super/superficial coming to a simmer, then a gentle boil. My condition hassssss worssssssssened. My stale/stale demons, wearing the sweatshirts of the poor. Damn it! A cobb/a cobb. I've stopped it in my mouth. Stopped it dead in my mouth. Forward, can't stop, can't stop, can't, can't, can't... can't... can't...
Committing an injustice or engagement today in the name of fairly-balanced jurisdiction & publicly mandated lack of affection or the possibility of parole stock options or containment of the threat of iniquity is no excuse for criminal deviations from my conscience tomorrow. Pause. Carry my weight carry my weight carry all my weight my weight my lack or courage to further the agenda of my loins... MY WEIGHT... is being watched. Committing an injustice or engagement today in the name of subpoenaed cause suspended effect sharp sharp suits with pinstripe patterns or transportation accessibility storage increases a decline in the price of petroleum or faster hustle is no excuse for for for poor character poor houses poor choices or dahl puri. Faster always faster it's the crux of my cowgirl politics fantasy pleasure rrrrrrrrroping in a slave. CALL IT! Gimme an R. Gimme an E. Gimme an S. Gimme an I. Gimme an S. Gimme a T. I've stacked issued on my legs. Stacked issues are piling on my legs! Committing an injustice or engagement on the day of someone's self-immolation, or a lack of steady employments (or for “other” please check “other”) in the name of blanket diplomatic politics a call to arms a weakness in the arms or in the name of armadillos manatees & bobcat (or in the case of my good acquaintance, Mr. Orwell Thompson, the freedom to graffiti) is no excuse for habit-forming public executions censorship & waste & discount prices making it impossible to function persuasively without blinders. You know... these things. It's not for me it's for the others for the others the others the others the others the others others others the others. Pause. Breathe... & interlude: ...rrrrrreaching a point... the point... the point of which... in which, my little, hidden motives can no longer be hidden from view, from the public... from yourself... from your... Again with haste I proclaim that this is absolutely true: Committing an injustice or engagement today in the name of my own urges to pillage rape & conquer my neighbor no matter how worthless she/he/it may be to make them more like me them more like me & to make them more make them more like me more like me more like me like me regardless of the fact they just want to be left alone (GOD!) is no excuse for my lack of punctuation prudence pauses patience & rhyme. Again with haste again with haste again with hate with hate Again with the hate. Against the hate. The hate.
Spider bite, slithering snake, I pray, leave me be, birds, flocking, flying, falling, stand up, wind, wined, fine, line, find, ally, pry, defy, bribe, night, mine, tine, kite, fight, sight, entice, dice, file, wild, crime, sign, crying babies, silent nights in fast cars, green, shine, go, hold, light, no, fight, indirect, now, wait, to, follow, slippery, whoa, bridge, win, tip, stripe, road, -ster, style, rage, speed, red, slide, white, hot, I, ice, slow down the swelling, earth attack of alien states of mind, body of water, pan, pick, air, panic, mix, pix, I, span, so, pick, pull, help, me, shore, hope, a, heave, me, ashore, swim [The Song] Here me, smokeless skies and grass-green earth, Since by your sufferance still I breathe and live! [Thank you!] Fond Nature gave me birth, And food and freedom–all she had to give. Enough! I grew, and ranged Their realm stupendous, changeless and unchanged, Save by the toll of nations primitive, Who throve on us, and loved our life-stream's roar, And lived beside its wave, and camped upon its shore. … Terror on the plains, The swift inspreading of destruction dire– Strange men, who ravaged our domain On every hand, and ringed us round with fire; Pale enemies who slew with equal mirth The harmless or the hurtful things of earth, In dead fruition of our mad desire: The ministers of mischief and of might, Who yearn for havoc as the world's supreme delight [Oh!] … The centuries in dim procession fly! Long ages roll, and then at length is bared [A] time when they who spared not are no longer spared. … Hear me, grass-green earth, smokeless skies, Since by your sufferance I breathe and live! [In Rapture] The charity which man denies [For Greed] Ye still would tender to the fugitive! I feel your mercy in my veins– Too late, too late, Naught can avail these wounds, this failing breath, This frame which feels the wily touch of death.
Small business is the engine of this economy without which there would be no annual capital gains takes on the wealthy are part of a thriving middle class American Dream now retire later with a 401K investment plan limiting fees incentives for... MONEY ...stocks reacting as collateral when the IPO freely structures incentives for an investment group comprised of experienced negotiators trying to get a piece of your stocks financial futures are high volume futures and option contracts that are non-traditional physical commodities money is after all the ultimate commodity Long term invest- MONEY Investment port- MONEY MONEY HUNGRY Sustaining a dream team of first class business executives is a challenge in this environment Think beyond oil – think tech Finding the right fiscal sponsor can result in a promotion for you Hawaii Honolulu You don't care about me
Money Action Love Action is the key to ending boredom
I love you more than you love money I love you more than you love me I love you more than money I love you You love me More than you love you You love money Up Seven Down Five Up Ten Down Fifteen You love money Jackpot! With interest rates at record lows once reliable sources of income like tradition bond investments have dried up and many investors have begun to wonder of the portfolio they have today will support the life they want tomorrow funds are actively managed through collaboration and in-depth analysis in an effort to reduce risk and increase potential all funds are subject to market risk including possible loss of principal past performance cannot guarantee future results I love you more than you love money I love you more than you love me I love you more than money I love you You love me More than you love you You love money More than you More than me Past performance cannot guarantee future results
Love Home Family


minis/Trajectories: a new album by thingNY
GBR024 - goldbolus.com/minis


released September 20, 2016

01-08 composed by Paul Pinto, 09-13 composed by Erin Rogers

Performed by thingNY
Gelsey Bell, Hristina Blagoeva, Andrew Kozar, Will Lang, Andrew Livingston, Pat Muchmore, Josh Perry, Paul Pinto, Erin Rogers, Dave Ruder, and Jeffrey Young

Engineered by Joseph Branciforte at The Bunker Studio
Assistant engineer: James Krivchenia
Mixed and mastered by Joseph Branciforte at Greyfade Studios

Produced by thingNY and Joseph Branciforte


all rights reserved



thingNY New York, New York

thingNY is a collective of composer-performers who fuse electronic and acoustic chamber music with new opera, improvisation, theater, text, song and installation. Founded in 2006, thingNY performs experimental sound works created collaboratively by the core ensemble and by composers we like to listen to. ... more

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