- Twitch (3:52)
- Das Ding (2:56)
- Breaking the Law (2:46)
- Orientalize Me! (3:19)
- Post-coitum (3:20)
- Bourgeois sack (4:27)
- L'autoroute du desir (3:04)
- Origasmi (2:35)
- The Cure (3:26)
- The Living Dead (4:06)
- That It Little Bit (4:03)
© The Diagonikals 2013
All songs written, performed, engineered and produced by The Diagonikals (Ms. Primrose Pill & Sujet la Mordue)
Gord Richards (background harmonics)
Damon de Szegheo (typewriter on "Twitch" / drums on "That It Little Bit")
Additional production and engineering, mixing and mastering by Damon de Szeheo at Oak Recording Studio (www.oakrecordingstudio.com)
“Nothing is lowlier than the bourgeois sack, that quivering mollusk that eats at one end and shits at the other!” grins the old avant-gardist. “Imagine that: it buries its guilt in obstinate toil and feeds on cruelty! It has recurrent dreams of wrecking on the strings of meaning, the flaccid vesicle; but still wakes up to find its sheets stained by shameful discharges, ha, ha, ha! And you can see all its viscous contents running through that translucent tract, it’s nauseating! There is no higher goal than blocking its accumulations, strangling its over fertile productivity and being useless!” she cries, covered by monochrome sound.
And indeed here is one, holding her delicate pink viscera with one hand and dancing with careful abandon; then the others come out, marshalling their yield of ecstasies, traumas and possessions in cadence with the rusty typewriter. The relentless flow of letters marks the flesh, soothing like a lullaby, gagging for a moment the mourning mouths in the pit of the belly. But the amnesia is never completed, the menacing shapes keep wavering at the edge of the retina; so they lock themselves in the safety of cars and move orderly, like moths whose eyes secrete light, each one an armored dot in the tragic swarm.
Then the valves are overrun, the electric barriers are shot and oily, pungent flows come out, the body shrunk and overblown randomly, the vocabulary a desperate algorhythm of repetitions, the mouldy cavities drowning, until the steel rhythm starts again, calming the convulsions into disciplined echoes.
(“Twitch” by The Diagonikals).