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Most Days Like Today

from Excavations in Substation by Nigel Ayers

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    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Minimal Works 8, Excavations in Substation, This Home Stands on Ancient Bones, Erosion of the Monolith, Live in Vienna 9th June 2023, From Solstice to Equinox, The Pre-War Noise Encryption Standard, Minimal Works 7, and 76 more. , and , .

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lyrics

Most days like today, the parking space between the building was visible from the road, but there appeared to be nobody at the end of the corridor.
A shot sounded only a couple of streets away.
Running feet could be heard.
Then an attacking force of plate glass windows seemed to burst open.
Instantly discovering that a skanky songwriter and an anonymous team of engineers never liked hearing new material.
But there was something else doing my head in, shrivelling slowly in memory, tumbling to its knees on the ground.
Somewhat vexed that had happened.
Where there really isn't such a place left anymore.
Everywhere where to hear rather than to feel.
And fell to the ground, shuddering together, weakly lit by a light from the first floor.
She enabled cryptographers to leave her their pop anthems with over two dozen files. Having correctly guessed the difference between many bridges for a hypothesized model of interaction, Jack pressed a key on his laptop.
Music filled the room, the engine immediately turning, pushing between them, firing bursts not known consciously by the dreamer.
The speakerphone behind the locked front door exploded outwards a split second before he fell through several hundred dermatological orifices like hair follicles across the street. Beneath the row of buttons the tape played like the rest of them.
They then understood that the sheer force of her conviction had looped and was marked down into the open doorway of another chamber as well as being held up by the platforms beneath them and closed it.
I pointed this out and bent ears and proved it.

No doubt they have already forgotten to watch him transform the last lingering busload down the romantic lines of the main vertical shaft beyond it.
The passengers climbed on to relish the bus's engines in wild flurries of sexual titillation and laughter.
We can spread this into a more bilateral look at the wide concrete chasm in front of the ring of blue stones on the clitoris bundle.
It's all there, you know you must join us to think of something square, no gimmicks, no time to lose.
The sooner we get moving before the sprawling engine directs itself right out of the middle lane and into the romantic area of the red, white and blue front entrance, the better.
Right, reaching under his seat, the driver pushed, folded, clicked, adjusted, humming, using his smile and his eyes and with his hands straight up, batten twirled a screwdriver. Meanwhile the beaker folk climbed into the vehicle and threw down buckets of grease.
The engine was reassembled and the device was levered from one side and then back, dropped down the vertical shaft on the driver's side, back inside the cross vent first, then rocking back and forth out of the loop to a sudden halt in the correct position over the supporting columns, down, up and down in its distinctive socket.

credits

from Excavations in Substation, released February 2, 2024

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Nocturnal Emissions Cornwall, UK

Nocturnal Emissions' Nigel Ayers has continued to work with a strong underground of cult support, avoiding music industry fashions, and following his own creative path he concentrated on creating a strong sense of a wilderness identity through sound.

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