The Plastic Family

by Kirk Pearson

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about

An EP about genetic identity. A high-tech, lowbrow selection of ideas, thoughts and quandaries that have been proven to make nine out of ten music libraries happier.

credits

released December 5, 2011

Kirk Pearson- Clarinet, Accordion, Violin, Viola, Cello, Melodica, Banjo, Mandolin, Balalaika, Vocoder, Autoharp, Glockenspiel, Marimba, Synthesizers, Flute, Oboe, Vocals, Production.

Julia Egan- Vocals on track 2.

Griffin Jennings- Guitar sample on track 4.

tags

license

about

Kirk Pearson New York

Electronic noisemaker/
sound collector/
aural storyteller/that kid you kinda knew in high school.

Most importantly, composer of electronic music and player of mandolins. Studier at Oberlin Conservatory.

contact / help

Contact Kirk Pearson

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Track Name: Our Biological Loop
Krulwich: This is the sound of sound entering the brain.
Abumrad: This man works with tape loops.
Track Name: Québec
Nous n'avons encore interlocuteur, maintenant tu ne regardes pas.

Quand les nuages se forment naturellement.

Quand la ville a été oublié.

Tout le monde est verre brisé, parce que l'on depolitise
Mon tragedie néo grec. a la porté du vieux Quebec.

Quand la neige recouvre la fenêtre.

Quand les nuages se forment naturellement.

Quand la ville a été oublié.
Track Name: The Plastic Family
We want a spiral staircase. Count the steps, divide by seventeen.
They want a spiral staircase. A gift from Moloch, man-machine.

Dive on the ground, don't turn around yet.

Smokestacks in Vietnam. Just concentrate on keeping calm.
Make sure you get along. Just concentrate on what went wrong.

Heat entropy, West Germany's won.

Think I'll go down to Alamogordo, I hear the weather's cloudless now.
Pyrite's put into the gatling gun and the clouds are in the land of the rising suns.
Gamma rays in ostinato. Deserted salt flats won't allow.
The salt flat's shrinking, the salt flat's crying. Deserted salt flats will see me now.

We were used to test on atomic bombs, we're just a family made of plastic but we have so much in store and we're done after this.

Summers don't last too long. Summer approaches strong.
August doesn't last too long. August gets along.

Heat entropy, West Germany's won.
Track Name: Hello MIDI
Paradise was lost and so small; it's cylindrical cables won't help you at all.
Failed saxophones, musette drones, chordophones all fraught with folderol.
They all said that we had a choice but no one wants to choose, I'm seeing you again.

Hello MIDI, it's been a while. Binary file.

Glowing like a file; in states and waits to be deported. I've waited a while; in dates, contemplates on being exported.

Send your constituents to the battlefield with something to say. But as the MIDI driver converts the signal it doesn't yield any notes to play, any time today.

Now I've hit sixteen and I'm seen as the kid who would never get out of the scene. Living with a prochronistic head, alive and allure but in an epoch millennia in the future. Your generation's deteriorating, so what are you going to do? Lie before the anacrusis, we pick up after you. I'm seeing you again.

Hello MIDI, it's been a while. Binary file.
Track Name: Bottom of the Ocean
I'm at the bottom of the ocean.
I'm at the bottom of the sea.
I'm at the bottom of the ocean.
I'm just stuck here in a dream, long gone in our physical loop.

I don't know if I'll make it back home, long long gone, all gone in our physical loop.

Earthquakes are shaking Chile, ground oscillating Haiti, vinegar on horizon's soul, Eyjafjallajökull. What vexes the planet and screws it- was it the midterm election or new 3OH!3?

I'm at the bottom of the sea, locked down in our physical loop.

I'm at the bottom of the ocean.
I'm at the bottom of the sea.
I'm at the bottom of the ocean.
I'm just stuck here in a dream.