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insular

from lament by agrammeofsoma

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“No man, proclaimed Donne , is an Island, and he was wrong. If we were not islands, we would be lost, drowned in each other's tragedies. We are insulated (a word that means, literally, remember, made into an island ) from the tragedy of others, by our island nature, and by the repetitive shape and form of the stories. The shape does not change: there was a human being who was born, lived, and then, by some means or another, died. There. You may fill in the details from your own experience. As unoriginal as any other tale, as unique as any other life. Lives are snowflakes-forming patterns we have seen before, as like one another as peas in a pod (and have you ever looked at peas in a pod? I mean, really looked at them? There's not a chance you'd mistake one for another, after a minute's close inspection), but still unique.”
-Neil Gaiman, American Gods.

credits

from lament, released December 18, 2012
Written, performed, recorded, mixed & mastered by Michael Gagen
All sounds made by one guitar, one loop pedal, one computer and one take. And a few different picks.

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agrammeofsoma Brisbane, Australia

barefoot bookworm, insomnia fuelled armchair astronomer, shoegazer, dronebuilder

prepared and unprepared guitars and loop pedal by Michael Gagen


there is always soma, half a gramme for a half-holiday, a gramme for a week-end, two grammes for a trip to the gorgeous east, three for a dark eternity on the moon.
-huxley, brave new world, 1932
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