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After History

by Senseless Beatings

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1.
Preface 01:15
Nuclear lightning will change the sands of time into a wine glass, and when we are blood-drunk we can darkly divine the face of Chronos—who's heart has failed; when the heartbeat of time has stopped, what beat can we march to?
2.
Purple Heart 02:43
This fight is my memento mori. These armed beastly men have wounded and surrounded me. Let my purple heart bleed (please come home now, please come back to me). These machine guns will not scare me (please come home now, please come back to me). Now I welcome death. Take hold of freedom, and open fire until my last breath. Let my purple heart bleed (please come home now, please come back to me). These machine guns will not scare me (please come home now, please come back to me). I have infinite resignation. I don't need any anodyne. Truth is unveiled in affliction. Let my purple heart bleed (please come home now, please come back to me). These machine guns will not scare me (please come home now, please come back to me). Man-made thunder rips right through me. I'm sorry, baby. I won't be coming home. (Your baby grows inside me; I'm so scared, I can't do this alone.) So it goes. So it goes. So it goes. So it goes and I am gone.
3.
Telegram 02:44
I woke up this morning to go to work. I drank my coffee to start the day. Everything was great or just the same anyway. The telegram came today. You won't be coming home. You had such big plans to get a new car, and I know you needed new clothes. These liberties you will never see. You won't be coming home.
4.
On the steps of the first financial I saw God explode from the sun. It was nothing particularly special. My mind was erased with the instinct to run. I was a furious fire from mourning, My grandfather's bones were cold in the ground. Both of our candles blew out with out warning. My name was burned into a book still unbound. Do you know what they have found, to split the air we breathe? All chambers still their rounds, and swords melt into their sheaths All of my brothers, they honor me deeply, Standing in line, with slips in their hands. Paying to pray and silently weeping, To rise from the ashes and glass covered sands. Do you know what they have spoke, To leave all lights but one? My flesh was turned to smoke, At the end of a sizzling gun.
5.
Tru(e)man 02:39
The creation of a nuclear Trinity is the epitome of man's history? Tru(e)man is a horror. Tru(e)man is a fat man. Tru(e)man is atomic. Tru(e)man is a little boy. All that is sacred embraces profanity? All that is sacred creates profanity. Tru(e)man is a horror. Tru(e)man is a fat man. Tru(e)man is atomic. Tru(e)man is a little boy. All that is sacred is profanity! All that's sacred is prophetic. All that's sacred is prophane.
6.
Intermission 01:20
If this a sign, what could be signified? The Second Coming? What is there to come back to? After this march what can there be? Our murderous marching legs are infected; But we'd rather die than be amputees. These feet, washed in blood, will plod on until the soil is soaked and barren. Could living water restore this place? We drank the Living Water We still thirst for blood.
7.
There was a beautiful soul who united the Greek and the Jew, who made common people priests, united the people and God. Now there is fire in His name. The Grand March of history ends in flame Cracked skin, gray like smoke, shrouds a thin ghastly corpse. A mournful mountain of telos, a myriad of nameless bones. Now they are rotting in His Name. The Grand March of history ends in flame. Hi(s)story and souls are both named for their corpses: their rotting remains. Dasein
8.
Unearth 02:52
I want to unearth the truth, but there are no grounds. Where would I start? Here? Here? Hear! He who has ears, let him hear. But so much is written that can't be heard. Who's He(a)rd(?) The Word? The Word is so ineffable. In my heart this seems so wrong; what's a heartbeat, but a song rising forth from chaos deafening the logos? Can this be justice, thousands of blistering rounds fired at the heart? Here? Hear? Hear! Can you hear? This is a blood curdling scream! Scream the Word loud enough to wake the dead! In my heart this seems so wrong; what's a heartbeat, but a song rising forth from chaos deafening the logos?
9.
Soma 02:05
A Pax Soma, pleasure is our master. This isn't Orwell's nightmare but Huxley's fever dream. No need for big brother We're too busy consuming. We are after history. We are after history. A New world order, resistance is encouraged. All revolutions are fodder for the counterculture fashion sector repackaged, absorbed, sold back to all of us. We are after history. We are after history.
10.
A cool kid in a cool car careens down the street, with a cigarette in between his teeth. Aimlessly appropriated attire adorns his skin; is there anything beneath? I could never be that guy, wandering—not wondering why. Or could I? Punk promises empowered him to believe in change; only jet black hair remains. Anarchy assimilated into American pop; and the capitalists stand to gain! I could never be that guy, wandering—not wondering why. Or could I? History is over! The world is standing still! History is over! The world is standing still! Simple and shallow songs sung over two chords can never mean anything. Simple and shallow songs sung over two chords can never change anything. I could never be that guy, wandering—not wondering why. Or could I?
11.
We're floating free without risk or reward, unchained from the sun by the mushroom cloud. The guns we hold at each others heads ensure our lasting peace. Instead of fascists and factions we have fashion and fads, but why dress up if there's nowhere to go? We're not marching forward so much as marking time. Our business plan is to roll the dice. No matter where it lands the result is the same: our companies now are to big to fail. Instead of fascists and factions we have fashion and fads, but why dress up if there's nowhere to go? I'm a cardboard cutout behind the counter with plastic smiles I placate the petty bourgeois. For these people I am merely dressed for business-casual prostitution. As scary as this all may sound, let's embrace this eternal return.
12.
Epilogue 02:13
Now there's a place for everyone in this machine; either we're at work, at school, or on vacation. Our time is measured, we'll get our due. They'll catch us if we fail or fall through the cracks. Let's just sit in front of the TV, They'll tell us what to believe. Let's just watch what's on the TV, They'll tell us what to be. This time after His-(s)tory is a gift, afterall. Who can we repay? How can we repay?

about

An exploration of WWII as the event that ended the dialectical movement of history.

credits

released January 3, 2011

Music by Senseless Beatings except Soma by Kitty Kat Williams.
Lyrics by Chase Brown except The Ballad of Hiroshima by Thomas Alverson, Soma by Jo Garnett, and This Eternal Return by Jo Garnett and Chase Brown.

Chase Brown-Guitar/Vocals
Thomas Alverson-Bass/Vocals
Jo Garnett-Flute/Vocals
Ian Lee-Drums/Vibraphone/Marimba/Vocals


Additional Musicians
Kitty Kat Williams-Second guitar on Tru(e)man and Epilogue, Main Guitar on Soma
Mike Dove-Lead Guitars on Beautiful Soul, Backing Vocals in Telegram
Justin Brewer-Back up vocals on Purple Heart, Beautiful Soul, and Epilogue
Pete Landis- Drums on Ballad of Hiroshima
Josh Billingsly-Trumpet on Ballad of Hiroshima
Joe Bettinger-Trombone on Ballad of Hiroshima
John Blakely-Trombone on Ballad of Hiroshima
JR Baker-contra bass on Ballad of Hiroshima
Alison Baskerville-Back up vocals on Epilogue

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Senseless Beatings Charlotte, North Carolina

Weaving together ephemeral semblances of meaning and vainly groping at values, Senseless Beatings is a musical project(ion) of people with no place to go. In spite of recognizing the vanity of their hopes (being-for-other-that-is-being-for-self), they wander about feverishly writing music that never quite satisfies their desires. ... more

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