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by Hussalonia

You can embrace any accident, rewrite it as your own. Drown your sorrows in high fructose sentiment, sung in sweet and plaintive tones. My face is in the speaker cone. Songs move air and move air alone. So I wait like an empty sail, facing in or out depending on the moon. Desserts cost just as much as a meal, sometimes even more. But I'm stuck in salt and the only way to freedom is to dissolve me in endorphins. My face is in the sugar bowl. Sugar moves blood and moves blood alone. So I wait like an empty sail, facing in or out depending on my mood. When the wind starts to carry me away, there'll be nothing that you can do to stop me. I can't imagine living any other way, and then again I think I can and it's horrible. I'm not gonna sink in these shallows waters 'cuz deeper water waits for me.
I saw you walking, your arm was in a cast. How that happened, I would have liked to have asked. Aw, but that's not completely true. I wish that I already knew. Was it some heroic feat or just fooling around? Some stupid shit, laughing and falling down. Sounds a lot like you. I could speculate, but I wish I already knew. I thought you impervious to disaster, but after all it looks like that's what you were after.
A clearing in the forest to make way for civilization. A page of history is folded like a secret in your breast pocket. You are one of the many things in this world that I love but I'll never understand. You know that I'm drawn to ambiguity. We agree that the end of times will be over a question of how it began. Maybe our bones will be the fuel that will propel some future existence. You can take over if you want to. This is not a conversation about the weather, though it raineth everyday. It shows that you can create, but you cannot control your creations. And I hope I never write this book. But you can take over if you want to.
Undersharing 02:10
Undersharing, undersharing. Oh what can I say? I say, it's best not to say anything at all. Oh, but wait. What am I saying? It's not saying anything that got me here in the first place. I want no more than I need to know. Leave the bonus materials and deleted scenes. I want no more than I need to know. Leave the bonus materials and deleted scenes. But there are legions of button pushers who'll die to hit "play all." Is it excess or boredom or are we just voyeurs who cannot face the end?
Oh, automated random quiz, am I somewhat or not at all? Ask me anything you like. Ask me anything you please. Do you think that I'll strongly disagree? Oh, automated random quiz, am I somewhat or not at all? I feel that we've become so close. Tell me, do you love me more? Tell me on a scale of one to four. Oh, automated random quiz, am I somewhat or not at all? How I long to be with you. I'm pressing enter to continue. Oh, automated random quiz, am I somewhat or not at all?
My cat got out, but only for a night. She's returned and everything's all right. But she no longer stares out the window like she did. Home is anywhere you ran and hid. Something must have struck fear in her heart. Who knows where she went, 'cuz she won't say a word. But she no longer meows at the door like she did, Home is anywhere you ran and hid. Run up the curtains and sharpen your claws. Prowl up the floors with dust in your paws. I can open the widows and she'll just stay inside. Home is anywhere you can run and hide.
We freeze alone and we sweat together. Dressed inappropriate for inclement weather. I feel good about losing you. It's one less thing to worry about losing. The church bells sound like car alarms. The hands on the clock have been disarmed. I move forward 'cuz I can't find my way back. We do to make meaning, but then everything's a metaphor. These days I am an inefficient machine. Losing, wasting, misplacing all my energy. I feel good about losing my mind. One less thing to own. One less thing to worry about losing.
Shake it off like a dog, give me paw and roll over. It's easy to forget when the storm is over that everyone was scared and running for cover. And if you're not wet, then you're part of the problem. Looking at the darkness all around you. Thinking it's a curse when it's your shadow. You're talking to yourself, thinking we can hear you.
I am lost, no idea where I am. Please check you pockets. Do I belong to you? Before the story began on a page untouched by hands. Ex libris, it says or do I belong to you? I had a name that I used to see in lights, but I've been forced to ground these fantasies of flight. Now I just want to see my name on a mailbox. Do I belong to you? A message washed up on the sand. An unclaimed plot of land. Are you doing anything? Or do I belong to you?


released May 30, 2010

When an adolescent Hussalonia founder first began recording original songs, he employed a dual cassette deck, adding new tracks as he bounced between decks. Anyone who has tried this very modest method of overdubbing can attest to the fact that it doesn't take long for the sound quality to decline. The oldest tracks lose their high end, sounding warbly and muffled, while even the most recent track competes with a formidable noise floor. Hiss and noise were the bane of the founder's misspent youth. And he was not alone; everyone battled tape hiss and line noise in the pre-digital age: nuns, bowling alley attendants, doctors, lizards, and even ghosts. But now, just about anyone with a laptop and a decent microphone can make crisp, clean, noise-free recordings. Tape hiss and line noise, it seems, are a thing of the past.

Ah, but don't we love to romanticize the past, even when the past was not all that good? Like asbestos and The Black Death, now that hiss and noise are no longer a problem, we find ourselves charmed.

Enter Hissalonia - ten, intentionally lo-fi recordings wherein hiss and noise were in fact augmented, creating a fragile, brittle, vulnerable sound. Consider it a last hurrah for hiss, the formal goodbye you never had when you took your Dolby noise reduction system to the curb.




Hussalonia Buffalo, New York

Hussalonia is largely the work of a multi-instrumentalist known only as The Hussalonia Founder.

Founded in 1997, Hussalonia is a "pop music cult" and claims to be owned by Nefarico™, a fictional soap company.

The Hussalonia Founder lives and works in Buffalo, New York.
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