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Puddle Of Death

from Post Internet Blues by Gad Whip

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  • Buy the Full Digital Album

  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Edition of 200 = 150 Black and 50 Black & Clear Swirl 12" vinyl housed in a reverse board printed sleeve with a double sided insert. Released on X-Mist Records (XM111) www.x-mist.de

    Includes unlimited streaming of Post Internet Blues via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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      £10 GBP

     

  • Digipak Compact Disc
    Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    CD Issue on Fourth Dimension Records - "The CD version of this Lincoln/Yorkshire-based UK group's latest album (the vinyl of which was released by Germany's X-Mist label), following several low-key cassette albums released since 2014, plus the four tracks that constituted 2017's limited edition 'In A Room' 12" e.p. Gad Whip blend avant-garde sensibilities with a contemporary take on the place where D.I.Y. culture meets post-punk, hints of deconstructed garage rock and interstellar voyaging through sweat-drenched waking dreams. Immediate, powerful, confounding and kept in place by wry, sometimes observational, semi-spoken vocals that recall Jason Williamson and the late Mark E. Smith, this is music primed perfect for any 21st century meltdown in a suburban sprawl."

    Includes unlimited streaming of Post Internet Blues via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

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lyrics

Puddle Of Death
There go the monotone hands, held together with rubber bands
Speaking of generation credit debt, or something else to make you fret
An angel sneezed in my face, there’s always someone on my case
Smelling salts for an old cynic, they make me feel sick.

High fidelity, high definition, low on quality, low on cognition
The internet streamy media, the bastards just get greedier
It’s a winner baby, solve that mystery, avoid being shat upon by history
Dead language passes through our minds, of course it takes all kinds.

Distinguishing truths from fictions,
I’m lost and won’t ask for directions
A saga in saga from some old diva,
This age of irony is starting to wear thin,
Just like the Stasi in east Berlin
This age of fury is casting us adrift,

The bus smelt like a puddle of death,
Like someone had taken their last breath,
Heat, sweat and whiskey sadness, cosmos and crisis in Kings Cross,
A storage facility within a show box, it doesn’t beat people just clocks.

Images become memories become narratives
Become history become policy quite nicely.

credits

from Post Internet Blues, released August 3, 2018

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Gad Whip England, UK

Art punk ramblings

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