THE STORY THUS FAR:
...hungover it's awful, the sound of trains collapsing back behind here; outside there are distant birds circling in front of 7 miles of heavy cloud falling down, &from where you're lying one of those clouds looks like a hanged man leading a blind, indifferent horse...THIS IS MILE END MY FRIEND, the hollowed out ruins here &a train runs straight thru them... we made a record here in mile End, at the mighty Mxx HOTEL2TANGO, where lonesome trains ramble thru the backyard while the wind plays in the trees where nervous birds hide from a dog named wanda, a kat named lu... 16 rented tracks moving 7.5 inches per second onto ampex456 W/OUT ANY KEYBOARDS, while don& ian rode the faders, tired-eyed&stoic... the whole thing recorded under threat of great threat on a 1933 stahltonbahnd maschine... IT ALL HAPPENED IN MAY; winter was just starting to fade then, and the money hadn't run out yet... 6 months later:we record two songs w/chemical daryl at chemical sound; broke again, john gives us free tape,&brian plays
some trumpet there... w/daryl we remix the old stuff too, &then we sequence the record up the street w/rod at mile end studio... mark helps us pretty the package and we put thing to bed & try to carry on... we've been plowing our little field up here for a couple of years now, but the yard is still filled w/rocks&dust&n&sick trees... SO we bide our time, waiting for a purer kick to bloom... &the future is still bleak, uncertain and beautiful... &the van is gassed but the pistons are cracked,and when we close our eyes alls we can see is: open road, telephone poles, a sun that is always setting, and a tangled up melody falling down slowly...
O.K.GOODBYExoxoxoLOVEGODSPEEDYOUBLACKEMPEROR! mILE eND
MONTREALQUEBECCANADAxoxoxox...........................
taken from the sleeve of the slow riot for new zero kanada ep...
all of written in the empty space between tours...later on we record it in one weekend with saint dale morningstar at his gas station in toronto...1/4 - inch mastering botched by metalworks, repaired by constellation + godspeed after all-night drive thru frozen blizzard...thee godspeed you black emporer! this time = aidan, efrim, mauro, dave, thierry, norsola, bruce, sophie, moya...voice on "BBF3" is mister blaise bailey finnegan the third, tape recorded on a sidewalk in providence, Rxlx..."moya" is dedicated to the lost cats of mile end...let's build quiet armies friends, let's march on their glass towers...let's build fallen cathedrals and make impractical plans...interested parties should contact us: P.O. Box 2, Place-du-Parc, Montreal, quebec, H2W2N9, Kanada...
taken from the march 1999 edition of the cafe bliss zine...
...deader from the getgo a slower sort of exploding that leaves you empty sometimes, especially w/the frozen rain and disconnect notices...FIVE YEARS now w/this band staggering through it slowly w/the bus & the van and the filthy carburetors always mocking us w/mutters&groans... to dream sometimes maybe of the freer sound knowing that it can't ever be pinned down, you look at it too hard or think about it too often &the thing just disappears... and always w/the slow boiling crises sometimes sick sometimes in mind body & heart w/the jangling nerves and worried postures... nine of us now, still doing the song & dance in spite of or as best we can, the lonesome gospel of mostly wondering why, and the shadows of a million late-nite almost van-crashes still trailing behind our heels... and making w/the tape loops and other highbrow accoutrements it gets a bit too easy to forget that we still gots to make it about the filthy dirty smelly hotel2tango in all it's ragged-assnesss w/the bad air and the unpaid bills and the 'willfull obscurity', like not wanting to talk at all hardly about structure or form, wanting only to tell this little story to the other ones, the ones who have or will soon build or sustain or try to endure, the little secret communities worldwide- a picture in our heads of tons of us worldwide nodding our heads always quietly in agreement w/occasional lowkey communiques or rumours...and we're all nervous just like the first time and drunk on top of it too and play too loud and miss the changes &laugh or cry, and all of it because of or only for the split seconds in that mess when you can forget yr. name and yr. petty hatreds and distrusts of all of us lost in this sicksicksick world which blinds us so young and leaves us hollower, for a second we can forget it up there and that's why we wanna rock just like zeppelin 9 and leave the high ideas behind mostly, work'll set you free, it's the truth- a rumble from a ruined speaker to maybe bring the gov't. down one sorry heart at a time.... we dedicate it to mile end still, and the people who get the point still, which isn't even about this band or rock&roll records at all... we dedicate it to the scene that never has been but always will be soon... we dedicate it to every prisoner in the world....