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The Mattmosphere (bungkus)

by The Mattmosphere

/
1.
to woah and show you know the flow these beats gon' kik kik kik it oh! this place no race just dreams you chase in time and space have you all a-glow i'll chance this dance maybe lance romance even refinance to advance my flow my age no gauge movement my sage at home on stage it's art i sew
2.
mother vs mother throwing husbands and sons at each other fueling what could be smothered fire with fire the universe is water and moves around those who don't falter in their quest to best their quest to best but this is not a test against any outside snide remarks but the sparks that shoot flames in the organ of our brains minds that hide and bind to our bodies atrocities
3.
it's distant far in a way more consistent with, the lesser part of me that could and can through empowered hands and jaded heart but will not start, the fire upon fire in lovers to come. for some are too young to be burned, not of the flesh but of the heart that might and could even in spite of the pain endured at the mercy of yours truly -purely love. with no snub on the cusp of dinner jackets, no trophy wives with smiles that scare childs of the real world we swirl, curl our toes devoid of the woes our species shares yet dare we not to upset this mess to reassess the chilling progress of separation happiness, i digress, we are not blind, we see and we hear, our senses draw near, through tales of poverty we peer a benchmark, they become, a far off "someone" who we can thank our god we are lucky to be distanced from too little we know their woe depends on us, the snub of cusp. It's possibility, what shines through me i bring... i sing... no remedy more potent than the memory that i am you, you are me our worlds differ through a lifetime of rituals and social structures "keep the status quo" our mind mutters, though not under its breath, no, to stand this test of time, to build truth of these lies we must shout "let not the separation of the classes die out!!" the growing fear shows in our public faith, for no man preaches so hard that which is fact as that which is truth. that doth sooth the far away kingdom and bring peace to them is that they can do nothing, what a tragedy it is to be, all with over-met needs, while those poor fools starve. and why do they kill each other so, i hear asked through, a half cupcake in mouth & sipping a delicate wine glass i do not see why one should die for what he said or she said and come to think of it, what an appalling red, maid! bring me only the best, do not test what i will stand. the young girl scampers away, feigned dismay, at her masters request. You do not own me! are words that fail to form even in her head, let alone thrown with the swords of past dead that hang on the walls aside many an animal hide. a trophy life of bragging rights good intention twisted through mis-intervention of social norms to form atrocities that future generation will ignore, leaving plenty a mistake to remake (and remake and remake..) on their fathers graves we will through this life save no one. you were born alone son, and though you will love, bring life to this world and perhaps, perhaps, even take it at all times you are restricted to this one conflicted ideal. you. are. alone.
4.
bats use sound to find their food and navi- gate in the dark they send out high frequency clicks and list- en to the echos to locate their pray these bat sounds are too high for humans to hear so scientists use bat detectors to transpose the clicks to a lower frequency dark dark dark dark dark dark they send out high frequency clicks, clicks, cli, clicks echos to locate their prey these bat sounds are too high for humans to hear so scientists use bat detectors to transpose the clicks to a lower frequency
5.
when i lose enthusiasm for my words they splutter to a stop a car without petrol distortionless hard rock when i lose enthusiasm for my words it's because they don't matter they won't make any difference no social construct will they shatter the truth is i have nothing to say but i'm a god and should be listened to the truth is i have nothing to say and there's nothing special about me anyway when i lose my enthusiasm for my words the well dries up sifting for gold, violent glows, fireflies in a refashioned jar cup when i lose enthusiasm for my words when i remember they need not be heard it makes me replace time and space where i used to implement thought the truth is i have nothing to say but i'm a god and should be listened to anyway the truth is i have nothing to say and there's nothing special about me anyway at the end of the day it's the end of the day and down many a long road i have walked the answer that was blowing in the wind brings no salvation my friend and though everyone else calls me a man a boy i probably will always be scared of my own possibility for pro-anti-humanity the truth is i have nothing to say but i'm a god and should be listened to the truth is i have nothing to say and there's nothing special about me anyway the truth is i have nothing to say but i'm a god and should be listened to the truth is i have nothing to say and there's nothing special about me anyway
6.
success 03:37
7.
we consumed 02:08
we consumed until we got bored we looked out the window the towns passed by the lives passed by we grew increasingly insignificant paled against faceless languages so close and yet so far and in the end, all that was left, all that made sense, was the platypus that scurried into the undergrowth.

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released January 1, 2016

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The Mattmosphere Sydney, Australia

m@ works across Pacific-Asia as a choreographer, composer and more. His music is world-building, intimate and transportive - the choreographers' efforts sublimed - engulfing and inconspicuous.

He has composed award winning sound for stage, film, extreme Sports DVD’s, gallery installations, podcasts and more.

m@ is also the founder of Wombat Radio.

MattGoh.com
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