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SPECIAL WEAPONS

by GASKILL

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1.
Pouring through the city like water, combing through your records like rats, cold forensic hands on the rosters; you never knew it would come to that. My favorite song: the look in your eyes. My favorite color: the cut of your hair. I have cameras mounted in trees, they watch your steps from on high, way up there. I know your name. The fine toothed comb is pulling out lice and chartering flights with no ETA. In the dawning cessation of rights you're trading your tongue for a life in the grave. Pouring through the city like light, the shadows are gone and there's nowhere to hide. It's a miracle anyone's left, put your ear to the wall as the megaphone cries: “Bring your papers, bring your badges. Keep your hands where we can see them. If you push away our love you do so as an act of treason. Please submit the forms required in duplicate and without haste. We will tell you of the feast but you can never have a taste, and I know your name.”
2.
Small Cake 04:54
Roads don't spring full formed from the forest. Teachers don't climb down ladders from clouds. Armies aren't held at bay by prayer. Children die if death's allowed, and death is allowed for the slimmest of profits by the fattest of men in the hungriest times. The cake gets smaller but no less sweet, and our teeth decay as we till the soil with our hands. We scrub the air we need for our lungs. We sift the poison out of our grain. We comb the biting lice from our hair, and we raise our daughters there. If you say that the sky is blue today they'll stomp the words right out of your mouth and ask you why you would make that claim, and do you have proof? Because the jury's out, and an ounce of opinion beats a pound of fact. The end of the thought weds the end of tact. So, before you speak, well, you best retract-- unless you want to dig your own shallow grave with your hands. We scrub the air we need for our lungs. We sift the poison out of our grain. We comb the biting lice from our hair, and our sons are soldiers there. We trade our books and reason at the local commissary for work gloves and a shovel to dig a trench for fighting, or else for cemeteries. We dig while we are healthy or at least while we are able. Do you have a candle left, or has it burnt to nothing? And what have you been planning to carry in the morning?
3.
Salt 02:41
We have blind cartographers making maps of places they've never been. We have lepers polishing unpaved roads until pebbles start to gleam. We have cobblers mending shoes for fish so their fins will never fray; mercenaries putting fires out and firemen digging graves. We just want to shake things up a little and let the pieces fall like broken teeth. We just want to shake things up a little and find we are not obsolete. We have surgeons down in cellars finding out why sinks won't drain. We have farmers studying stars enumerating what they can't explain. One legged men now dance in unlit rooms with razor blades. We keep our babies in the morgue and log the time we've saved. We want to shake it up. All the experts got too good and started to rub us the wrong way. We brought the amateurs in, relatable guys to save the day. Everyone deserves a chance to drive us off the nearest ledge. Let us sneer at the people here who once gave us a competitive edge. This is the cult of salt.
4.
Slow Crows 02:38
Air is pulled past turbinates and through to alveoli by the diaphragm, inflating lungs until at full distension. Hemoglobin makes a sweet exchange and presses onward. Lexicon is processed and the mandible engages. In the field of trampled corn a man is leaning in the wind. Salivary glands are there to moisten tongue and teeth, the intricate machinery we've built to handle speech. The diaphragm contracts and air is sieved through larynx, and we are reed instruments balanced up on end. In the field of trampled corn a man begins to speak. "Take flight," he says, and thirteen crows are startled. "Take flight," he says, and thirteen crows are scattered in the clouds.
5.
I wanted an answer, a story explained, to get some perspective on bloodlines and names. I spit in a vial and sent it away so men could uncoil the codes. A notification, alarmed like a clock, arrived via email-- the password unlocked. My nerves were like fireworks filling the room. I finally confirmed what I already knew. I thought I was human, Irish and French, but I am a spider. I am a spider. They pour me well vodka. I know that I ordered top shelf. I thought of old heroes in prose with their swords, but I am a spider. I am a spider. Is knowledge a curse, or is knowledge the only reward? I take off my hat and I put on my coat. I find my car keys and I lose the remote. I like the commute and the company too. I camouflage better than any of you, and I don't have questions. No, not anymore. I mailed off the vial, now I know the score. A narrative in which my actions are framed, and all my desires are given a name. One leg, one eye, two legs, two eyes, three legs, three eyes, four legs, four eyes, five legs, five eyes, six legs, six eyes, seven legs, seven eyes, eight legs, eight eyes.

credits

released June 22, 2018

Mario Costa: bass
Craig Fleming: guitar
Kevin Grant: vocals
Dan Jagoda: drums

Tracks 1-4 recorded by Trevor Vaughan at The Colosseum. Track 5 recorded by Glenn Smith at Amps Vs. Ohms. All tracks mastered by Trevor Vaughan. Layout by Lauren Grant.

All songs written by GASKILL. All lyrics by Kevin Grant (BMI). Copywrite 2018.

Thank you Craig Paiva, Paul Martins (Crystal Ship Productions), Jason Medina (Transient Authority/Kuru8), Brian Cass (Overclock), Mary Frances Church (Deathkiss Radio WEMF), Mark MacDougall (75orLess Records), Glenn Smith (Amps Vs. Ohms).

Track 5 originally appears on the Deathkiss/Amps Vs. Ohms Volume 2 compilation with a different master.

Front cover: "Blick Vom Rathausturm Nach Suden". Peter, Richard. 1945. (SLUB/Deutsche Fotothek, Richard Peter).

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GASKILL New Bedford, Massachusetts

GASKILL formed in 1995 in New Bedford, Massachusetts, releasing 2 demos and the Granite Iron Oak album before going on hiatus in 2002. The band reformed in 2015 with Chris Helme on drums, releasing an album of new material, The End of the World, and an album of Black Flag covers (Our War). In 2018, with Dan Jagoda on drums, the band is releasing the Special Weapons album on the 75orless label. ... more

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