[track: genre: dark art-rock + kosmische, style: circular, deteriorating, hypnotic, mood: dissolving, wry, existential, tempo: 90 BPM locked circular pulse, vocal-style: adenoidal keening tenor, cracking falsetto, confessional, instruments: fuzz guitar drone, sparse drumkit, detuned upright piano, vinyl crackle texture layer] [verse 1 | style: sparse, deteriorating, mood: wry discovery, energy: low, dynamics: dry and contained, texture: crackle bed under single guitar drone] [vocals: dry, slightly nasal, punchy phrasing, vocal fry at line-ends] Fifty plays in, still can't find whose crackle I been carrying The deadwax holds a name I've worn below the needle's old crusade The liner notes curl inward, every margin yellowing and fraying I know the flip side better than I know my own decade The stylus reads me backwards, and I let myself be played [pre-chorus | style: building, mood: dawning recognition, energy: rising, dynamics: bass lifts, piano enters] [vocals: insistent, slightly warbling, rising in pitch] Every warp's a body, every skip's a name that ain't arrived The crate's been full of others since before I learned to buy And I been playin' them as me this whole, entire time (playin' them as me) [chorus | style: circular, anthemic, mood: dissolving revelation, energy: medium-high, dynamics: full band locked groove, beat: circular 4-bar loop locked] [vocals: keening, melismatic on held syllables, cracking falsetto on "all along"] I been spinnin' on this platter tryna understand the song The lacquer's what I'm made of and the lacquer's what you are You were the groove, I was the needle all along I read you wrong for years and left a scar We press into each other, can't tell near from far [verse 2 | style: sparse, sardonic, mood: parody logic, energy: low-medium, dynamics: as verse 1, texture: skip-loop introduced] [vocals: dry, declarative, wry inflection on final line] The crate-digger in me won't accept the grooves are wearing I flip the same side twice and call it knowing more The matrix number etched in deadwax keeps on glaring But matrices don't have a self, that's what they're for A shelf of pressed identities, a circular encore [pre-chorus 2 | style: tighter, resigned, energy: rising, dynamics: piano more prominent] [vocals: deadpan building to keening, deliberate] Every skip's a gap where I had been before The cartridge reads me into somebody's door I been mistaken for the grooves I wore [chorus 2 | style: circular, mood: collapsed distinction, energy: medium-high, dynamics: full band, beat: same locked loop with slight detuning introduced] [vocals: more strained, falsetto cracking earlier, fry more pronounced] I been spinnin' on this platter, there was never any song The lacquer's what I'm made of and I let it be your scar You were the groove, I was the needle all along The run-out hits and I keep circling, too far To lift the arm, to choose which one of us we are [bridge | style: expansive, searching, mood: acceptance of indistinction, energy: peak, dynamics: fullest arrangement, piano dominant, guitar drops to two-note figure] [vocals: most unstable, warbling on wounds and wound, almost breaking] The platter keeps on spinnin' and it's everybody's wound I try to name a self and find I've named somebody's track The cartridge can't distinguish where the warp curls in around The shop's been closed for hours and I won't be putting back [exhale] This pressing that I pulled from a box that had no name I'll play it out to the run-out groove and play it out again [chorus 3 | style: circular, deteriorating, mood: dissolution complete, energy: medium-high fading, dynamics: piano drops away, lone guitar drone returns, beat: locked loop now audibly warped] [vocals: most keening, melismatic on "flaking", cracking on "along", fading on final line] I been spinnin' on this platter and the platter is the song The lacquer's what I'm made of and I'm flaking off the bar You were the groove, I was the needle all along I don't know where your pressing ends from mine by far We press into each other 'til there's no us, just a scar [outro | style: locked groove loop, mood: void acceptance, energy: fading, dynamics: single vocal over needle crackle, beat: locked 4-bar loop degrading each pass] [vocals: barely pitched, exhaled] (you were the groove) (I was the needle all along) (groove... groove...)
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