house​.​xct_

by Other Families

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about

house.xct_ was recorded and produced by Jesse Manou at The Other Families Recording Studio.

credits

released August 6, 2016

Other Families is:

Zach Buck: Vocals
Jesse Manou: Synth, Percussion, Bass, Electronic production
Christopher Ning: Vocals
Paul Geldart: Percussion

Other Voices:

Cassandra Beauvais
Sonica Carnegie
Aaron De Sousa
Bobbie Flatt
Katrina Gibson

Other Musicians:

David Baldry: Trumpet
Lukas Witmer: Electronic Percussion, Synth
Ola Kado: Violin
Nicole Cain: Additional Bass Guitar
Lucas Manou: Trombone
Joe Baldasio: Guitar Solo
Emily Bowmile: Saxophone
Lukas Witmer - Additional Keys & Percussion
Seabeau: Keyboards
Chris Ning: Keytar

All musical compositions by Jesse Manou
All Lyrics by Zach Buck, except “An Invitation to Dinner,” “Inside my Shell” “Promise” + “Tunnel of Luv” lyrics by Zach Buck and Cassandra Beauvais. LIMBO! lyrics by Zach Buck & Sonica Carnegie.

Thanks to:
Josh Johnston, Pavan Brar, David Lee & Brett Molson + Kaley. Chris Clay at The Mississauga News, Phil Witmer at Noisey & Dev Addison Bhat at New Noise Magazine. Julia + Tony, Jim + Marilee, Tony + Dewey, Mieke + Dave. Avery and The Artel. Chris Harry, Hayley Hruska, Adrien Yiptong, LUGE, Valued Customer, Ben Winokur, Alex Metcalfe, Emily Power, Jess Rock, Davin Bharose, Adrian Francis, Spencer Lavigne.

Samples:

Poolboy: “Fatbottom Girls” by Queen, “Mr. Hurricane” by Beast, “Dominus Illuminatio Mea” a Gregorian Chant.

Miller Speech: Maxwell Anderson in “Miller House and Garden,” Indianapolis Museum of Art.

Etobicoke Blow: Alvin and the Chipmunks “Mediocre” 45”

Invitation to Dinner: “Mary Mary” by The Monkees. The sample in the middle is Emeril Lagasse. BAM!

The Girl Who Eats Blood (u) features Timothy Morton, Lil Wayne, and Prince talking.

His Mouth is Fused: “Get Ready” by Sublime, “The Going is Rough” Home T, Cocoa Tea & Cutty Ranks, and “Bam Bam” by Sister Nancy.

AAAAAAAAA and LIMBO!!! Feature samples from Harry Belafonte on the Muppets. Limbo also features lyrics written by T.O.K. (“When You Cry”)

Inside My Shell: “Caress” by Drive Like Jehu

The Way that I Do: “Gee Baby, Ain’t I Good to You” by Nat King Cole

Promise: “If I Hit” by 112

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about

Other Families Toronto, Ontario

We are Other Families, an electronic DIY/punk collective with a taste for noise, spoken-word, and onstage theatrics. We are self-made, self-produced and we've independently released everything we've put out. Our live show is a loud and violent barrage of sound and vision that incorporates costumes, props, dramatic segments and awkward lapses of confusion and disorientation. Join the family. ... more

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Track Name: Ransom Notes
Suspect,
animals do take some sympathy on men.
Cannibal,
a praying mantis: yes,

symbol blade.

Here’s nothing only the stairs.
Blisters sequin symmetry there.


Calm down.
Down.


This armour caresses me
a little bit. It’s serpentine,
and glows within a neon sign.

What’s crouching at the foot of my bed,
distinguished guest?

i’m ashamed.


i ripped off the side of hurricanes,
saw the patience in my—
...
life’s a feast for animals,
passionate as we go.

Turn the lantern of your face.

Flies careen into the wall
like helicopters gone a—

i’ll carry I’ll carry my own.


god knows you’re a good person, rag.


My body’s a mailbox for ransom notes.


And everybody loves the sunshine.

god knows you’re a good person, rag,

and pictures other people take.
But in my mind you’re on fire,
i don’t recognize

your face.

So shake your knives.
Look at my satellite dish,
as i go back and
dust away the traces of your entrance.

Here the dust is trapped,
now the tablets go a-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.


Your face!


Doll duck under.
He blinks black.
He built a house for us out of japanese crepe paper on fire in the forests of—

Birds trade lives. Dragonflies,
so the dragonflies become lizards and they search in the footprints for traces of la la la la la.

Bones.
Pet.
Cognomen.

Distinguished guest,
animals do take some sympathy on men.
Cannibal, a praying mantis, yes.


My body’s a mailbox for ransom notes
and pictures other people take.
Winds change with my mind and scrape
what never was away:

more furniture for a home i’ll chase
to the ends of the earth.

The word of the day is hours.

Pulling weeds from the ground’s wall where they’re
anchored and pale, more civil than you

sink. In sunburst
clay clouds stripe the sky like a couch
where airports

chill pills spill
and climb out of the cracks.
A line of pink caulking,

like long intestines,
goes round the house,

in a divot
the worm coils, half-coils its organ, the hornet
throbs, prey of the Sink’s Swallow.

Discovering insects
the word of the day is ours, for free,
a gazelle coloured rainbow crinkle.

Sprinklers.

Suspect, dust the traces of your entrance off the carpet.
We’re peeking through the gloom.
Everything under the sun is too
true.
Track Name: Poolboy
Now you see our rooster skulls,
blinding thieves in the precious dark.
Hands linked like an ugly pink clam
impress on the skinned knees.

A thousand piece puzzle
shouldn’t breed power couples.
Orphans eat hot coals
at talking cat’s command.

(Hands linked like an ugly pink clam,
linked like a flower with teeth.)

Call that people person.
Tell him to sleep under the tambourines where i sleep.
oh seagulls, my seagulls.

We were
born in hollow waters now they look like stained glass pieces.
Holocene shark teeth tambourines where i sleep.
Oh seagulls, my seagulls,
have you seen our rooster skulls?

Long white bones with the flesh all gone.
wouldn’t it be chilly with no skin on?

You’re sacs of meat. Flowers with teeth.
But what are you today?

i hear your lice voice and i know it’s time.

The chasm blossoms sigh
“now who handcuffed me to my big dead runner up prize?”

The seagulls will fly and combine.

What’s this? A blonde?
Balancing blossoms
on the justice of her palms? Pah.

Love proms. Love corsages.

Now we may.


So the messenger god
sent a word to the wad
of stone and flesh chia pets.

So, now we may.

It said our gifts become guns,
become serpents of the sun.
Mercury is Medusa.

The Seagulls will fly and combine.

Brides make a winged snake in the sky.
Sign: seagulls will fly and combine.

Now you see our rooster skulls
blinding thieves in the precious dark.
Hands linked like an ugly pink clam
impress on the skinned knees.


(flowers with teeth flowers with teeth flowers with teeth)

What are you today?


i hear your lice voice and i know it’s time.



Poolboy, they carry you through the streets celebrating.
All your exes twist in their seats, but there’s no sign of molly.
Molly, the animals want to see the god you’ve become.
If the sun is a circular saw, the clouds are the colour of us.
Oh seagulls, take back your perfect malls and pixie sticks.
The sun looks like an open callous.
And i still don’t understand. The roof, the roof!
Yeah let’s go there. And jump off into concrete, and chlorine,
and obscenities.

Obscenities like her mouth a cave the taste
of toothpaste and liquor, a pair
of katydids making love like
windshield wipers, in a night
the colour of birds,
and birds names.
Ragtime trumpet fuck.
Legs as many as a caterpillar.

Talc planes.
Track Name: Etobicoke BLOW


Snow
coming out of Etobicoke.
Look at the tunnels and tracks.
Look at the plastic and condemned tenements.

And signs
collapse.
And if i ever go
i’m never coming back.

Ooo,
look at your blistering task.
Well he’s gonna be planting a citizen in me
And honestly you have to ask why. i


sigh,
sigh
just to see
it dawning.

Erroneous monks!
Killers and psychos and skunks!

Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

This is the chapter of repulsive crocodiles carrying magic words.
The heart of men in the underworld,
and temples in a seed
known only to a few.

Ain’t this a colour.
Ain’t that a colour.

Etobicoke.
Etobicoke.
Etobicoke,
Look at the sky.
Track Name: Cue Sycophants
Pay disease palaces.
Carnal trees say ‘riot.’

Son of sea emerges
and he doesn’t have time--
Matter fact he’s all that--

Peel the band-aid off.
Let’s get into it.

Cue sycophants
with their drawn out
‘you-kiss-bads’
piece of law.

Two tickets to the spider show,
the lust circus. Riot!

My first years with the muse of abattoirs
were the best damn years i’ve ever had,
because i’m like that. So inclined to see

Signs. Means they’re gonna fight!
My my, i’d feel good
if i
if i
if i

manipulate
my little machine, i’ve
got a golden machine.

The angel of death is coming
and you look a little green around the gills.

but that’s the inner structure
i drilled

holes in my nights
so I could breathe.
Riot!

Right? My little sleepers
locked in a dream.

My insect brides,
i love all these catapults.
They help me decide.
Bathe me in oil.
Oh, you look so plaster white!
Play with the wings of a dead,
street-littering pigeon.


So kind.
Alright, alright.
i want to hear applause collapse,
and lungs bite.

’swith these couples
at the sock hop?
i got all the money.


Call a doctor. i fuckin’ swallowed a coin again.
Sorry.

Inherit the academy and you win
this straw swan, you get this wicker swan.

Or you can be an anarchist who still gets nice stuff
and likes to believe they never hurt anyone.

i’ve got a friend
who’s got a friend
who’s got a friend
who’s got a friend
who’s got a friend
whos got a friend.

i’ve got a friend
who’s got a friend
who’s got a friend
who’s got a friend
who’s got a friend
whos got--

i’ve got a friend
Who’s, who’s got a friend?

i’ve got

i’ve got a friend.


i’ve got--


Cue sycophants
with their drawn out
‘you-kiss-bads’
piece of law.

Piece of law. Riot!

Poseidon, he’s gonna
get to the bottom!

i’ve got a secret claw. Yeah, yeah.



All this time.
Pick a side.
Pick a side.

Riot.

All this time.
Pick a side.
Pick a side.

Riot.

i’ve got a secret mind,
a bastard damn closed mind.

i heard a voice from a higher beyond.
Saw the sights.

Carnal trees love
the tourists
they let tourists riot.

They love tourists:
pick ‘em right up off the pavement.

i couldn’t classify it.
i wouldn’t try.

It’s all so blasé anyway.
Track Name: Inside my Shell
Pig blood, it tastes like ramen broth.

Another cut together thing.
One side, one corporation!
Sudafed! Blitzed at the strip mall.
Sudafed! To clear my head.

Another thigh, another mirror, damage my reputation.
Sudafed! It’s on my fingers.
Sudafed! to clear my head.

When i die, i want to be mummified.

Another home,
another window.

Form of believing tied to the sea.
There’s nothing left for me
except the moon and screaming


when i die i want to be mummified,
but for now:

nine eyed maleficence inside my exoskeleton.

The corporation
of cut together braces, to cut gums,
to make them bleed.
Leeches suck while you speak.

Seminal ovation,
pearly rugged ocean.
Prostrate ashore
this one thing i spit is vengeance!

And inside my insect armour rule with an iron fist
annihilating wonder-slugs and doom incorporate!

Why did you come here again?
White edge, white crown.
All of a siphoning.
You don’t have to.


Free, this outside shell
fits inside just as well.
Track Name: An Invitation to Dinner
Donc, je ne veux pas te défendre pour tes choix, ou même, tes désires. Tout est nouveau et en sueur ici. La montée, la chute, il est a un peu près partout. Le soleil est un nid de cafards. Tu meur de faim. Ne me blanchir s'il te plait-- mon ésprit est dans les fissures.

On with caterpillar with a trillion legs
wriggles in really brilliant, articulate sex
With titted wolves and other fake archetypes.
Can’t see inside though so
i painted a landscape, i call it
self assurement with sponge.
Then i saw a big rock i just had to, well cmon, really,
i just had, i just had to

Climb.

i claimed our home in a nest of shale.
Begging, braying, til the moonlight's stale.
Stand up, trussed up, ready for the meal.
At the first flight, prey became the--


My life’s a charade.
i just pretend all day.
But I’m up on these 13s and that’s swell.

You trespassers. Mmm trespassers.

When i’m touching myself it’s hard to tell which
part of me is doing the feeling, which part is being felt.


It’s hard to tell.
Mmm hard to tell.



The bottlecap grew knuckles first.


Pumping pipe, their heavy eyes
hollowed by sleep’s sequence, the

bell for dinner,
hollow friend.
It sounds like thunder
when the trash bag expands.
But i’ll be quiet.


i am just
a slick lipped
candle wick
made of flesh and bones,
and bugs,
and wax and wick
and normal candle stuff.


Let us all remove our clothing in this heat!
Talc planes
fan blessings.

And we’re gonna toss, we’re gonna toss our beautiful dressing.


And now we take
a puff puff pass.


Let us pour this,
a place at lunch at last.


From my dad’s house, picket missiles:
i got love for all my favourite palms.



When i’m touching myself it’s hard to tell which
part of me is doing the feeling and which part is being felt.


White fan. Bird and flowers paintings.
Who stands under mountains masturbating?
Track Name: Talk 2 Hell
For me, not me lift your hammer.
For me not me give me.
For me not me give me a tickle.
Yearning, shun.


Use not use the love in a tight la-la.
Use not use the love in a tight la-la!

I am the right, right power.
Me curious, sleazy.
For me, (not me) my shark missile.
Coolant.

My left heart,
some resistance.
Media-us
medius.

Contrived.


Never see-eth, never.
Never under, I sulk and see it.
My sulk missile, massage.


We all feel feral.
Abs everywhere.
All on my wrist. See-eth,
never nice to meet ya.

Beyond everywhere,
don’t see-eth limericks.

Marigolds marigolds marigolds.

Incense. Rich and safe.
In my room. Came to blows there.

Twin, our daddy raised two rivers.
Has he told the joke? When god was asked for paradox
he knocked two rocks together.

Twin, it is raining again, how far the farm?
Above us black clouds are breaking into...


Firing on my coma: my head.
Come back, the man, the earth sings.

Me, me and osmosis.
me, i am the god of Moses.

Oo, bruise bruise,
Lives why-comes-christ.
Everything is you, birds.
Got another everything, like him.
Amuse him. Bruise him.

Cover it in cheetahs priest priest.
Ability, music of the dead.
This points to heaven, like i want it to.
Wait, that’s my rib!
Rain, come to the rhythm,
come to the rhythm.
Shoot my chance.
i owe you and poetry
me and you,
me and you and people like you.

News is the best.
Got a little message for the arrow tense.
Make me into your shield.
Make me into your shield.
Media-syrup.
Bam-bam.

What’s in the cellar: divine.
And i am dust.
i am a skeleton,
yes yes, i am dust.
Song of experience.

Please my thing.
We were in a being.
Seems like a prosthetic.

Marigolds are made of sin.
Track Name: The Girl Who Eats Blood (u)
Incarnadine.
Fuck, apostle depots.
Frau-du-ya-flex.
Now at least you know.

The earth’s a leper colony.
Yep, the dirt’s a leper colony.

The blasted out shell of another broken tent
collapses again then collapses again.
Another day up at the top and on my tip toes.
Now at least you know.

The earth’s a leper colony.
Yep, the dirt’s a leper colony.

Funny girl,
just one question left.
Why are your teeth so bloody?

Will i descend?
Never, never, no never again.
Not when a lady’s present,
not such as yourself who sucks sucks so much blood!


‘cuz we’re feeling enamoured.
Legs locking together: the sign that we’re in love.
Enough. Enough,
Enough of America.

Girl, just one question left.
Why are your teeth so bloody?
yeah?

Miracles so the people put their wash out.
Cannibalism’s just a form of therapy.
That kind where you eat what you speak,
lizard face lactating next a carnal tree.
Oh my god, well--

Say bad liquor store, bad country club: fall in circles.
Bats of the sun will suck up all your blood.
Eat my celery sweetheart, touch my tentacle tongue.
their voices fuse, then echo through the second floor!

Hard not to see the buxom world
when it’s palpating, pupate
these bosses, photocopiers and dirty shag rugs,
and loss from the central knot
pupating seers and cloth,
reborn in the mama infernal.

A ha ha.
Peace and love livin.’
Monkey monkey sea.
Where peace and love live is
elsewhere, ain’t it?
According to my calculations.

Feral cats and cigarettes.
We all live in a dream.
Love is livin’ elsewhere, ain’t it?
And whose fault is that?
With just a tomb to energize your cults.

Funny girl, just one question left.
Yeah!

Bats!
Circulature!

My meat will taste unkind.
’cuz my blood is thin as ice,
and i had a ball at the end of your long long life!

‘cuz we’re feeling enamoured.
Legs locking together: the sign that we’re in love.
Enough. Enough,
Enough of America!

Girl, just one question left.
Track Name: His Mouth Is Fused
Carnal trees haunt my vision,
looking for a place that they can dine.
My knees covered in lesions, but of course i’ve been sleeping around
the exit sign.
“Closer, closer, the secret’s deep in our vines,
in a societal fervor,” they say.
“All you wanted, everything, death is kind,
this century.”

Carnal trees haunt my vision,
Looking for a place that they can dine.


the world’s got a secret
the world’s got a secret.

i walk around the pit.
the world’s got a secret.

A secret.

Please insert your humble prayer
into the family’s floppy drive
for incorporation in the perpetual song.
Interrogation. Circumstance.
You have
a secret.

Carnal trees haunt my vision,
Looking for a place that they can dine.
My knees covered in lesions, but of course I’ve been sleeping around,
the exit sign.

Masochists always find a way.
People need parents but parents get stuffed.
Let us turn all atomic hearts shallow, crystal.
So they can fall, today.

The world’s got a secret.

Deathless legion hides life in the palms.
Now it’s more one big let’s get along.

The world’s got a secret.
u got an animal look.

The world’s got a secret.
u got an animal look.
Track Name: LIMBO!!!
Be weary bout di man ‘oo gnaw pon di island.
Me breddin ah der suh pon di gully side
Wid der rass out deh foo foo pickney
Deh Island is irie.

Hurry up and come back
was the last thing she said to her son
the day his life was taken.
She didn't know he wouldn't come back.
He died from the bullet of a gun
and now her little boy is gone.
She said, “help me, Lord help me.”
And she looked up to the sky,
and she heard a voice reply...

“Living on the edge.”
Far from my palaces
reckoning.


Live on nothing, except
skates and flies: a beast that feasts on parasites.


He says,
i’m living on the edge.
He says?


Of course he does.
...

Forks in the road to Babylon.
Mosquito, bloodsucker.

My succor,
ward off the spirits, what’s the good book say?
A bit of scripture.


It says


Call the souls to the netherworld.
Bloodsucker, mosquito.
Call the souls to the netherworld,
and the bottomless pit.


What do you think?
Do you want to go for a spin?


Faddah, meh soul ah bun mi
deh rivah, tek di souls profligate.
‘Olds deh locust’s sarcophagus.


No one’s coming back from hell
to rub sunscreen where you can’t reach yourself.


But i love
your sunburned body,
(of course he does)
mmm, your touch soothes me like
calamine.


Ooo, my first love.
It baffles me when you bark at the moon.
Track Name: The Way That I Do
i wish you were a girl, so I could fuck you.
You've got a pal in me, palomino.

It plays out on the pads of my hands.
Oh look at how they bicker.
Only the dead can tell the future.

And your panties,
Now don't i sound unsettled.
A crumpled mass on my hope chest,
the undresser.


Yes it's tough but i think
We can get through without fighting.
No? Alright. Let's have it out,
pudding pop!

We're thick as bugs and clusterfucks.

i love those sluts, egyptian cats.
But like the bugs i lust for Venus fly traps.

Impermeable
familiar
cartoon

condor.
An enemy impossible 2 defeat, mouth far
into the face beast drawn,
undescribable.
i know i know i know the
enemy bob:
be really deep and relinquish
control, wherever my heart finds its fellow.

Mrs. Murphy greets death
through an emoti-opticon: she’s at a known level.


Through her pills she can rage.
The placebo is language.

The avatar at condor mountain’s foot
unfastening hard disc from cartridge, Mrs Murphy.

comere kitty kitty kitty
comere kitty kittty kitty
Come. come here kitty.



Impermeable
familiar
cartoon

Condor.
i can taste the dew.

A milli tourists don’t know what to do with their cut hands waiting at the hot gates of death land.

Rich folks lie flat on stone slabs,
for the condor.

Now sweet Mrs Murphy begins to quietly seize.
Then to froth and it’s shaking her body.
What a fox in her time, Mrs Murphy.


welcome to the land of death where parapalegics with angel wings sing hymns in the throats of flowers, towers of fire burn to the west left of the legion of infants thrown into the sea, while me and the rest of my gang that’s the weaklings tuck in i to another half task. i never even loved you, you should know that, but then i’m just not one for custy STD infested currs. Now get the fuck back in your pickup and go.

Palomino,
You’ve got me under control.

Put your keys down
Butcher me, pity me!

It’s just caution tape baby.

Cuz you
smile like a lady.
Such sweet power trips.


Mm.

Its unbelievable, indescribable,
This ful-fil-ment.
Track Name: Promise
i’ll
admit:


situations perfect.
It’s true.

Despite, i have this face
and want to lose it.

Be eggshell white,
And smooth.

But the face remains,
a clothing stain,
no matter what i do.

i’ve really got a problem.
i know it’s nothing new.
This little girl always wearing thin
tossing out those wedding fins
hunched over bowl, I’m pointless.
i made one big promise


that now i’ve got to uphold.
i want to see all of you get sick and die.
It’s the only way that i can be satisfied.
i made one big promise.

Feel so alive
so new.

i just love drugs.
Are they watching?
i feel like a million bucks!
i don’t want to have a name!
i promise i promise it.
Track Name: Tunnel of Luv
Slither like a wrist.
i can stare at this picture
of my mother all day.

Slither like a wrist
distance. distant. distance. distance.

Slither like a wrist
--my remoter pushed in past where i can press them.
Buildings tower over me like godless gods.


why don’t you take me home?
why don’t you take me home?
why don’t you take me home?
i can cook, clean, protect us!

Somewhere in the middle of this expensive field
is the thresher that makes my name.

Amazons.
Gracious kings.
Sailing those big histories.

Why don’t you take me home.
Glass is satin chromed!

Presence of the ultimate scales
this is the
chapter of the
chapter of not being driven away!
chapter of the
chapter of not drinking water in the underworld!

Died a singer
hell you have no appetite.
shine.

Sit down for dinner of one three two
black mould is coming
through.

Coats of silt or eyes of glass.
Did you miss your chance or were you
sticking it to your superior?

Grab that photograph from before.
Caught you drifting out.


Well, the gestalt crane always talks on paradoxes and binds he thought but i forgot to hit record. And that was funny because he was talking for like half an hour we sent the pin spiralling right up the flagpole and i didn’t get a single bit of it on tape!

Now the things at half mast and the blue wind has it ticking and rips the flag and pulls cotton balls out of the cloud’s coverlet, and i’m playing piano and can hear the blood lock up in my head.

You know?

You know?

You know?


You know?

Scythes weigh me down in time. Butterflies, pasted over my eyes.
Eyes, contain parasites, unborn births, barren mind.

Your silence will touch the end of time,
your honour, your honour.

Life i hear you, you’re hollow, shine.
Mean nothing. mean nothing.

Time’s got a grand design, forms a line, links our lives.

Life i hear you, you’re hollow, shine.
Mean nothing to all my
friends.