Halatern, Etc.

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Tom Carter
Numinal Entry
Halatern, Etc.
LP
$18

"This is the second release from the Halatern, Etc. label, run by Keith Connolly (of NNCK/No-Neck Blues Band fame). Tom Carter requires no introduction (those who are curious are encouraged to visit the historically rich wholly-other.com). Of late, his Kazuyuki K. Null meets Franco Falsini excursionary instrumentalism has taken on an increased luminosity, due in no small part to some unexpected time spent at a certain house on the borderland. In his own words: 'Information-inscribed ribbons unravel from a spool spinning into relaxed entropy. Floating smoke-scrap phrases dissolve before the awakening namer; whispers of causation refute a dozen irreal plot lines, showering text onto re-emergent reality as a deeper narrative retreats to a place hidden from scrutiny. I am awake, and you are here with me. Holding our hands before our eyes we stare skyward, light leaking through our fingers, rays shift and rearrange as we flex our fingers. The beams emanate from within, not without; the light pours out of our eyes, animating all we see, bearing the unbearable heat in us. These memories intertwine with 'reality' in a way that's impossible to parse. One night not so long after my return, I attempted to transcribe them in the only sensical way, via degenerating melodic and harmonic arcs, free of the inevitable collapse of language. These recordings are the result.' The recordings he speaks of comprise Numinal Entry, the second LP released by Halatern, Etc. The sounds contained therein offer a glimpse of something slightly outside of living experience, something slowly holy, and something eternal. Edition of 300 copies." - Halatern, Etc. Hear some of Numinous.

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Kyle Eyre Clyd
Pale Dawn Creeps
Halatern, Etc.
LP
$18

"This is the first release from the Halatern, Etc. label, run by Keith Connolly (of NNCK/No-Neck Blues Band fame). "Is it the sight of death, the thought of saying? What sinks us deeper into melancholy: sexual incompleteness or its spastic conclusion? What seems to line our life with satin? What brings the rouge to both our cheeks? Loneliness, emptiness, worthlessness, grief... each is an absence in us. We have no pain, but we have lost all pleasure, and the lip that meets our lip is always one-half of our own. Our state is exactly the name of precisely nothing, and our memories, with polite long faces, come to view us and to say to one another that we never looked better; that we seem at last at peace; that our passing was... well -- sad -- still -- doubtless for the best (all this in a whisper lest the dead should hear)" --William Gass, from On Being Blue. Kyle Clyd is of an orphaned ascendancy, more Geeshie Wiley or Anne Gillis than any of her visible peers. In talking about Pale Dawn Creeps, her debut full-length, she refers a kind of blues, itself perhaps a mercurial essence resigned to antiquity: "To believe that the bits of paper in your pocket have real value or to take the word for the thing itself is the 'unpardonable sin' of the New Testament. Those guilty are condemned to blackness. Black manifests in the instant the accusatory finger is lifted, or guilty hand raised, but blue is not so easily won. Blue is not a second coming, but its denial -- our shortcomings hovering in the dead air of judgment's lag." While certainly not blues in the traditional (read: idiomatic) sense, Pale Dawn Creeps' depth-of-shallows abstraction belies an unmistakable lyricism and almost sing-song vacancy that is something of a cipher, asking where, when it has all been said, do songs really come from? Edition of 300 copies." - Halatern, Etc. Hear some of The Creep.