An Anachronistic Boy

by The Light Brigade

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Memory is prone to clumsiness in the manner of a seaman whose negligence allows his every treasure to drift into the sea. Afterward, an image every so often stirs up from the bubbling abyss, sped upward by a sudden current of association. It slows as it nears the surface, and at this point the seaman may choose to reclaim it from the churning brine given that the retrieval is not excessively exerting or treacherous. What he may not notice at first is that the trinket has inevitably been corroded, distorted, otherwise marred, or even altered completely in form. Oftentimes, the object itself is scarcely recognizable; in fact, the object in question often never actually belonged to the sailor in the first place.

Everett Deams returns to his childhood home after the death of his father and rummages through the attic, finding forgotten artifacts that unexpectedly thrust him into a variably dark and sentimental storm of either organic or invented memory. What has happened to Everett and Jane? Where did their worries begin?

Everett Deams has lost his thoughts! Everett Deams is out to sea!


released October 14, 2013

A thanks to the ever-growing family of musicians, artists, and wonderful people continually expanding around the Light Brigade band.



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The Light Brigade Little Rock, Arkansas

Somewhere between the inherent, quiet Arkansas isolation and the swelling mass increasingly pressurizing the headspace, The Light Brigade is an experimental/progressive rock band with ties to electronic and avant garde art music. Ryan Gaston, Jonathon Lewis, Landon Turner, and Drake Simmons illuminate the experience of fear and loathing in the American South. ... more

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Track Name: Drawn Outside There are Things at Stake
Around the corner for a dollar is your poetry--
Never said much, doesn't mean it's not beautiful.
AM transmission advertises the irony
That she hopes there's life left in anything--
But it's a long day, and there's not that much hope left in this city.

Heard you got in a wreck and you broke all your poetry--
Red swollen eyes never meant you weren't beautiful.
A box full of words never made it worth the piracy,
And I hope there's time left for anything.
Bedridden nights never left this damned city.

Impermanent, you are. Impermanence, consume me.
Oh, let her consume me.

Can't help the fact that you post your tricks neatly on your sleeve.
Never made sense, doesn't mean it's not funny.
Heard you burned all your time to take in all of its energy;
Never made much sense to spend your time, with the price of gasoline.
(I hope there's some day left for anything.
At nights we go in and watch life on the TV.)

She could've smiled as I became expendable pocket change,
Attention span of a microwave.
She spent me half at the war depot, half at the onion grove,
The rest on the palisade
She drove through the heart of the memory of smelling of kerosene
As she burned down the armory that defeated the luxury
Of maintaining your purity.
I wish I came home sooner.

I wish I came home sooner, to benefit the benefit of words.
I wish I came back sooner, to benefit the most ill-equipped of years.
Impermanent you are...
And you were me.

You could indulge in our gluttony, our eyes eating all we see,
Destroying the balance that
Gave time to the ill-inspired, the traveling circus mire's
Belligerent show vampires that sucked all the irony
Clean from the wedding cake that ate all that it could take
Of Stoic philosophy.

I wish you'd read me as fast as they all seemed to find the exchange
So simple to masquerade.
You bought me half at the guitar store, half off, except nothing more seemed any more
Unacceptable a trade.

Got the other half at a fountainhead where she was presumed more than dead,
Lacerations on throat and hands.
You bought the rest at a used book store, looking for something more
Than valuable company.
(I hope there's life left in anything.)
At night, we go home and watch the afterlife on TV.
Track Name: Drawn Outside There are Recaptured Tragedies
Donated by Rheingold Kockenschlagger
Using Ryan Gaston's "Morphophone" program