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by KEN mode

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He's a natural smiler; not all the memories were bad. Harsh words, with hard consonants. People buy into "we", and this positive affirmation means nothing - I would never do that. We're not fighting, we're just talking. You see? Not everything I say is a lie. It's the law in her eyes: bad word, inept guise. A diary of "why would you?", but it's fine, this is just for us. I don't care how you feel - I can say anything, and it's just as satisfying to me that you know: it was nice and sweet, and almost made me feel something. She treasures these moments; ruin them for her. Fabulous pleasure. Please yourself first. Everyone in my life is very kind to me.
These are not good goals. I don't want to feel safe, I'll never learn that way. The kind of chaos I wish to convey; in fine illuminations - and a resting pace. This is intensely flawed and bleeds its feelings through these seats. Deliberate in each movement and pause, navigating weakness; with a dystopian loss. Tiny lies; with a soft love - I'd rather be alone. Then I’d be happy; then I’d be enough. I am terror, I am absence, I am here for her. I cannot fix this. I want to feel again. My body's failing. I need help.
I'll never understand that old butcher mentality: the warrior, the brave, the hero. Bully. Coward. I'm filled with this overwhelming instinct that I can break you: shredded ligaments, bone by bone. C'mon rough-rider, you want to hurt me, so bad? You’re just a mouth piece for cruelty and greed; always the perfect "man". A malice of forethought - there are strength in lies. Too many terrible things, but no, I will not yield. Let's document a moment that never happened. Just look at him admiring his excess - intensely pointless unhappiness - and that wasn't a rhetorical question, that was bait. A collection of weaknesses; conditioned unfurling hate. No one is laughing clown. Religious zealot, fundamentalist radical. A furious breed.
He can wear the skin of a professional. Life as a sick romance - lust has no mercy, so show us what your muscles can do. The good times will not last. Selective reverence; it gnaws and it picks at my concentration. We're taught to believe in such foolish idealism: entitled fairy tales recited nightly - caught in these recycled thoughts and criticized for such cynicism. A perpetual cliché of damned if you do, damned if you don't. Are you impressed? Just because no one else is talking doesn't mean you need to be.
Is this the point we're trying to make? So many blank pages, with so much more to take. Make a change, come back a new man, please. I cannot tell how much is real; where the act begins and this person ends. This is not a good place, I need to escape. You're going to continue enjoying this mistake with me. It's as much harsh as it is derivative; I've pressed my luck and I've fallen short. Held, mildly paralyzed, in this specific moment of self-doubt. I used to try to be someone; it's not the first time and certainly not the last - and I'll repeat myself like some redundant iconoclast inconvenienced by your kindness. But let's just focus on who you're trying to impress. We owe you nothing, so stop trying to enjoy your life.
He's always there, but he's always wrong. Please turn the power back on, I can't stop sweating. The payment's sent with a letter of disappointment. It's just a beak, and six hundred teeth - this is the anarchy of beasts. If the dog can't handle me at my most reckless, then it doesn't deserve me at my most precise. Providing for your gentleman? I have some quick advice. A failed exorcism for the most aggressive boy; he's not fine, but he's alive. With a constant stream of brilliance, resting marks; though he'll survive. He's kind of a hero, he's fairly legit; an expat with more space to be lonely in. I'll be here - flexing; you want to feel like a man? Focus; you'll do what you can. You’ve made your bed, sleep in it alone.
That was one of the brilliant things about Claude. He's a young man with his young hands looking at that naked man, saving that other naked man. And I like the way it busies the hands. It's fun to blame you because you're the only one who cares. Down here there are animals too, as the flies eat your tears. Old feelings; you can't buy those memories...or sell them, though I'm skeptical of that love. Always awkward; a lifestyle brand. Top level of the bottom rung; such a clean young man - you have enough energy to ruin things. This is perfect art.
It's never as bad as you think; but it's always the worst it's been. How many times must I fade away? Longing for a free flowing, natural understanding, and it feels less and less likely as the time passes. On paper things are fine. They're fine. I'm fine. Where have you been, my narcissistic dream? If I stay awake – well, just long enough - if I stay awake and I care, sometimes things will just sort of end. Endless scribbles, and drafts on drafts on drafts. When I need to care, it's just not there. When people need to settle; I just cannot settle. Funneling toward the worst of our nature - it'll take your everything.
Why won’t you make me happy? In their hearts, they have fear. There are those who are lost; does that mean I’ve given up again? To kill with silent contempt. Stop giving me hope like you need it to live - with overwhelming persistence: my angels graceless; useless. Just leave the stains where they are, for the love of god. Please be quiet and leave me. Tell me again about my miracle. Stop giving me hope. Oh, what a gift: I’ve met my maker, she serves oblivion with a cynical smirk. Life of bitter things, yet it’s appropriate. No thought novel; the joke is cruel - each attempting to record what it is to be human. Stop giving me hope.


released August 31, 2018

Guilty Parties: Jesse Matthewson - vocals, guitar, percussion, piano // Shane Matthewson – drums // Scott Hamilton – bass, backing vocals, percussion // Kathryn Kerr – saxophone // Bass on ‘Fractures In Adults’ by Drew Johnston // Additional backing vocals by Adam Dyson

All songs by KEN mode. All lyrics arranged by Jesse, but words by Jesse, Scott, Shane, Cate Francis, Garrett Jamieson, Mark Matthewson, and Drew Johnston.
Recorded January 2018 @ Private Ear Recording in Winnipeg, MB, Canada by Andrew Schneider, instruments on ‘No Gentle Art’ + vocals on ‘Very Small Men’ by Craig Boychuk.
Mixed by Andrew Schneider.
Produced by Andrew Schneider and KEN mode (www.andrewschneideraudio.com).
Mastered March 2018 by Carl Saff.
Artwork and layout by Randy Ortiz (www.damnthedesign.com).

KEN mode uses Heavy Electronics Pedals, Nerdknuckle Pedals, Lace Pickups, Sennheiser Electronics, Levy’s Guitar Straps, Abominable Electronics Pedals, and Orange Amplification.

All songs copyright KEN mode. Produced with the participation of Manitoba Film and Music. Thanks to everyone involved and our inner circles.
RIP Chad Alsop.


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KEN mode Winnipeg, Manitoba

Metal/hardcore influenced "Extreme Noise Rock"


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