Get all 38 Heavy Cloud releases available on Bandcamp and save 70%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Degrees of Slowness and Speed, collage triptych, hwenn, Poetics of Pain, If Every Day Was a Season, Zennor, Lost Wisdom, aerial, and 30 more.
1. |
Slow Motion
03:51
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2. |
Blue Milk Memory
02:41
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3. |
Screens
04:08
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We walk, or drive, go on rails, fly.
One foot in front of the other.
Where are we going?
Walking on cracks.
Eyes locked to screens.
How much do we notice?
The way my right foot angles out slightly compared to my left.
How unusual the green of the grass appears against the scree of man-made materials.
How balletic the sway of trees move in the wind.
Contrasting the repetitive rush of vehicles and the trance movements of humans.
The blurry faces.
Wearing masks for our mental health.
Who are we? Do we recognise ourselves?
Can we trust the mirror, when the mirror is out of our control?
The mirror that society shapes.
The mirror that skews our own opinions of ourselves.
Who are we? What am I?
Our societies are arrhythmic:
there's always a constant acceleration to be somewhere, to go somewhere.
We buy into the cult of speed.
Parents walk at their own pace and drag their child behind, like an animal.
We do as they say, because we are afraid to fail.
Society runs and runs all the time, infinitely.
Without breaks, the crash and systematic failure can only be around the next corner, or buried in a rushed piece of code.
Those who control speed, have the power.
They spread their propaganda along a network of speed, a chain of ideologies.
Progress, progress. Or get left behind.
The fear of standing still.
We're told to move, to run, to jump.
To think fast, or to think later, or not at all.
Where speed is the limit, it will only get faster.
We need to slow down.
To ignore the cult of speed.
To rest. To review. Contemplate.
But how?
We have no time to try our different lives.
Different versions of who we might want to be,
could be, maybe already are.
We have to choose our last lives, our current lives, now.
VHB (Very High Buildings) take us up and out, away from the ants and the flurry.
Looking up for space.
Looking down at controlled chaos.
Communities in the sky, squashed together.
Individuals on the ground buying into a package, a programme, a sermon.
Sardines packed together, sharing an idiorrhythmy.
Living together, but also apart, like monks.
We are individual planets orbiting a communal galaxy.
Only though if we respect each other's personal rhythm and space.
Or else we are rootless,
floating in space, in infinity.
We live in a strange place.
A place of disembodiment,
of ghosts, of madness,
of instants, of shards of time and experience.
Listen. Pause.
Hear each other's voices.
The different grains.
Away from the noise.
We speak in lyrics, cut-up and reassembled.
Ancestors of William Burroughs.
Too much something gets in the way of our intended narrative.
We are pushed.
Pulled.
Cut-up.
Stretched.
Censored.
Beaten.
Manipulated.
Hypnotised to think in certain ways.
Words have become hollow.
A tactic.
Bandages over right
and wrong and love and hate.
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4. |
Garden of Sorrows
03:11
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5. |
Letting Go
02:17
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6. |
Displaced Memories
06:05
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7. |
Time Out of Time
03:51
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8. |
Jamais vu
01:11
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9. |
Déjà vu
01:35
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10. |
A Conscious Forgetting
04:43
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Heavy Cloud England, UK
Sounds | Art | Press
Inspired by memory and internal and external landscapes
Small runs of bespoke physical keepsakes
Collage-based artworks and textual exploration
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