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“Outside The City” LP (2020)

by DZTN 1980

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  • Cassette + Digital Album

    50 copies printed on light gray shells - limited, one-time pressing!

    Includes unlimited streaming of “Outside The City” LP (2020) via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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1.
It started with a gun to his head, made to recount the things that he'd said. "Son, I'm gonna ask you and you'd better tell me soon: Who's behind your movement and the Faces of the Moon?" There was a deep, deep culling heading their way. The man behind the weapon was an unfamiliar face, another hired gun who had taken up the space left behind by others, left behind by fakes. It didn't matter anyway in a game with those stakes. It was over in an instant. There was a loud sound, and when he opened his eyes, the man with the gun had died. The Faces all around him, the dark sky shining down, the moonlight. They had come through once again, safe and sound in the night. There was a deep, deep culling heading their way ... but they'd have their say.
2.
Next Step 01:49
There were warning signs. Nothing felt quite right. Get on the move, look around. There was a sense of it all coming down. "What's the next step? What will be left? Who will save us? Are the answers up there in the sky?" The phases of the moon dictate the mood. On the move, like the tide. There was a sense of bringing it alive.
3.
The feeling in the air could be described as contempt. The fear campaign of the desperate. There was a sense of dissolution, of prejudice against solution. What did it come down to in the end? Just a base desire to offend? Obfuscation. Intimidation. Alienation. The fear campaign of the desperate.
4.
"The Day of Disconnect" came too soon, an unsuspecting populace left stunned in its wake. It was a bloody sight to behold. Hundreds of people died in their homes. Men. Women. Children. All dead. He no longer felt at home. It was no longer what it had been seemed. He was no fool -- he'd read a history book or two. But this was perversion. This was cynicism, taken to the point of no return. He no longer felt at home.
5.
It was a crisp, sunny November day when everything came to a head. He was walking his usual walk, doing his best to drink in the fresh morning air. Taking in the sound of the birds, chattering away (like most birds do), when he heard shouting up ahead, a chorus of angry voices that crashed together like a wave on a rocky beach. At first, he didn't recognize the faces that looked down from their tenuous perch below the maple trees. He thought it was weird to see the four of them with ropes around their necks. "What the fuck is this? Do I really see what I see?" he thought to himself as he froze where he stood. So, it was in disbelief that he watched them fall in a such a violent way toward the ground below, just stopping short. He watched them die. The mob that had gathered were overseen by a small group of ugly men dressed in ugly clothes. The purplish hue that had overtaken the four faces were more beautiful than that cloth. The chorus of angry voices slowly died away as those on display stopped their swinging and kicking. He wanted to kick and swing, too, at every single one of 'em, he wanted to rip their fucking eyes out, but he just watched instead. As he stood there, frozen like an antelope trying to pretend the stalking lion couldn't smell it, something occurred to him. He knew who those faces had belonged to, he recognized his own personal connection to the moment. One was a teacher he'd had in high school, another a school nurse sometime before that. It was then that he realized that things had turned for the worse, and that things could not be the same as before ...
6.
He remembered the good old days like a slap in the face, back before speaking out got you thrown in a cage (declared an enemy of the state). It happened slow like the tide, at a creeping pace ... or so it had seemed. He guessed he just couldn't relate to the paranoia of providential fate. He remembered the good old days (he was still young), but it wasn't too long ago that it wasn't fun to shoot your neighbor with a gun. What was going on around him? Who was to blame for this mess? Was it part of some conspiracy? Or just a logical outcome of too many people on the planet?
7.
It seemed to happen overnight. One day, they could pass around sage words of a bygone era, so they could be heard ... but the next day, when they went to read, there were no files. The text was gone. They'd deleted the books. There was no paper. It had been long ago been burned. That was the problem in a neo-digital world: it didn't take much work to be an asshole, to delete a file, if you had the power.
8.
They bided their time. They all stayed in line, but behind the scenes they formed their plan. They would set the town on fire. Outside the city. They gathered knives. They gathered bombs. They gathered intel on every piece of scum. Outside the city.
9.
Again? 02:09
He'd read so many books in the past that he wondered if democracy could last. He never wanted to be the same as them. Not again, not again. Not ever again. Maybe that was the problem they faced? Any free society could be erased. But through their lies he could see an ebb and flow through the waves of deceit and all around him he saw the spellbound. Those followers, swept out to sea.
10.
It happened in the dead of night, the sky so filled by the moon. A million knives pulled from their sheaths, signaling a new sense of doom. The faces they all looked the same now. Their faces, they all looked the same. They poured in through every window. They did what they had to do. They left no stone unturned, determined in turning the screw. Wiping off a blood-soaked blade could only hide so much shame, but they were not evil people. How would history assign the blame? Their faces all looked the same, but they felt the shame as they went insane in a night of pain, as they tasted new rain.
11.
"The Night of the Moonlight Sky" was a turning point in the pathetic story of his life and he was never coming back, not with his soul intact. He had learned a thing or two from the Faces of the Moon. It was time to strike back, time to fight. He had said never again, not ever again. It was time to fight.
12.
It was a cool October day when they burned the ugly clothes away. "You only matter if you're a threat ... so place your bets." This was a perfect time to put everyone in line, up against the wall, to breath in the smell of fall. Not many breaths to breath, might as well enjoy the leaves. They had made their mistake. This news was not fake.
13.
Lucky Day 02:16
It ended with a gun in his hand, but he had something more important than that. He'd recovered their books. He had heard it said that power grows from the barrel of a gun but he knew more than that. It had been more than that. Those had been the "good old days". The "good old days" ... but now they had more in store. Gonna be okay. It was his lucky day. Gonna be okay.

credits

released January 17, 2020

Recorded/mixed/mastered 12/5/19 + 1/3, 1/15, 1/16/20 at Haywire Recording Studio (Portland, Oregon) by Rob Bartleson. All songs by Dustin Herron (ASCAP, 2019). Art by Justin Santora. THANK YOU for listening.

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DZTN 1980 Oregon

diy punk/post-punk/synthwave/whatever

*formerly of ABOLITIONIST*

abolitionist.bandcamp.com

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