by Gutters

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    Pro-dubbed on purple cassette shells in a clear case // printed j-card and on-body labels // 10 tracks // 37 minutes //

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Dan b.c. - Vox / Lyrics
Chris P. - Bass
John aye - Drums
GG - Guitar / Synth

All Songs by Gutters


released May 15, 2017

Recorded by Henry W. at Sound Savers, Hackney.
London - Spring '17.
Mastered by Jeff M. at JM-Mastering.



all rights reserved


Gutters London, UK

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Track Name: Skullscapes

Skullscapes, motor-ways, sky pathways sculpted, carved, mapped out of sound, dream travel rails, sensory, slow like snails,

feeling around in the air, picking up every frequency,

noises as colours, coursing through the body, brown sound, round, influenced from amplified found objects, some humans frowned subjectively.

feeling around in the air, picking up every frequency,

Enter a new realm, centre of the helm, turning, churning out every cog 'a squeak and clunk, a certain kind of funk, originating in junk .
Track Name: Place

A place devoid of relation,
A place needing sensation,
A place close to closing, too close to cessation,
A place needs a move towards reanimation,
Waiting for realisation,
A place to be at one with your nation,

Lost the foundation,
A time to yearn for reinvention,
Place, space for contemplation,
No longer in stagnation,
Life experience, feeling, or, inoculation,
Fate, feeling, a new face on.

Moving back towards elation.

Track Name: Untie

Employment. Deconstructed, desocialised self.
Actual Oblivion.
Blinkered distraction, not too late,

Mirror, magnifying glass,
Self control, honest manipolisation,
Path realignment, life sculpture,
Center actualisation, truth reborn,

Strength emancipated, back in the right hands,

Wandering with intent.

Cut through the iceolation prism, inner perceptions amplified
Through electrostatic repetition.

Employment is a poison,
This is my antidote,
Not a scapegoat.

A chance to be true & sincere, make things clear

Freedom engages, sets the fear loose from it’s chains, untie the reigns to explain,

Untie all the boats from the docks.
Track Name: Whitechapel

People shouting for no reason
People shouting for reasons
To sell you something useful, surplus to your needs, currency, in exchange, conference in the street

Reshaping, reforming, beginning again, ever changing, always the same in moving

Call to prayer wailing from the mosque
Shouting on construction sites, cranes squealing, built in five minutes, no seconds to breathe, bellowing on the next one

Reshaping, reforming, beginning again, ever changing, always the same in moving

Shouting for money, outcast from family and state, falling, lying on the street.
Shouting for help as you're mugged, knocked off your path,
Crying in the street when you can't see your bike

Reshaping, reforming, beginning again, ever changing, always the same in moving

Shout, horn blare, get the traffic moving, wake up!
Screaming inside the skyscrapers, not being heard,
In pain, have to leave, sky high, pockets emptying, spiralling upwards,
don't put a price on my soul.

Reshaping, reforming, beginning again, ever changing, always the same in moving

Is her new incarnation of change,
the same kind of noise we like?
Market place, chain consumerism, amalgamation of communities cleansed,
fake east end accents tuned to sell you property.
Shouting, Push yourself!
Live to, and even better -beyond- your means, in...

Reshaping, reforming, beginning again, ever changing, always the same in moving

Time time time, time time time, time time time to get out of?
The filthy magnet, of pigeon shit, stick to your own definition, of,

But where is the White Chapel?
Track Name: FKebookkkkkk

Crash through this social media network with teeth soul and sinew.

Suck in the membrane of all the electronic wastes of time and energy and spit them out in a linear series of noughts and ones.

They know that when they left some of them behind it was for a reason and had no real need to re identify with them, the memory of what they were as friends is far more valuable than the unrealised reunion.

Projectile Vicariousness.

Political storm in a teacup. Fakebook, fakebook.

Come over here & watch me talk to myself and all of my personalities all day & night.

The like lustres go fishing, write anything in order to get approval for the hundredth glass of red they've topped up or affirmation that they are really saying something to notice the sun is out, and rather than getting out in it or noticing it fully themselves, they do not live it, mention it on a little screen and stare at it, waiting for the likes to be ticked until they've missed the beautiful suns rays embracing them back to life.

They have a choice to be more free, experience things, & not feel they have to tell everyone everything.

The mystery of likes misconceived, misconstrued.

Until their popularity on Facebook exceeded that in real life, and everything they did reaped the rewards of several 'likes' from all sorts of people known through all their eras and reinventions, then forgotten, then known again in the electronic abstract.

Every future pursuit now geared towards generating the experience purely to present the fact or illusion that they were 'happy' or 'enjoying their lives' and 'exceeding their dreams' as proof was painstakingly composed and, publicly, electronically, chronically, projected.

Some people and times are beautiful memories and thats a good enough thing to be.

The decimation of all natural human relations. The self fulfilling prophecy.

Destroy facebook and the Internet now. We've embraced it long enough. Keeping us all in our homes away from real interactions. Wake up. Wake up!

Go outside!

From the electronic slumber;

Wake up wake up!
Wake up wake up¡
Track Name: Car Psych
Car Psych

Get in the car, get out the car, get in the car, get out of the car, get out the car to get in the car, go and speak to some people who don't want you to speak to them then get back in the car, get hot in the car, sweat in the car, gridlocked in the car, won't get far, new laid roads, the smell of tar, order a coke from the bar.

Get out the car, get out of the car, pulled up by bacon, telling off in the car. Get in the car, park the car, get out of the car, get a fine for not getting back in the car. Go mad in the car. Feel disabled in the car. Car is not freedom. Car is a cage. Get out of the car, get out of the car.

Stay out of the car.

Give the car to the Thames, give the Thames into the car.
Track Name: The Spilt Ink
The Spilt Ink

I am the spilt ink,
Inside The split pink,
Of those once dressed in mink
The words coming out of my
Mouth, aren't keeping up with my mind.

With this pen I write,
we collaborate to make life,
the discovery, a vast stranger,
for us to get to know, unravel, bring along,
into themselves.

Sail the air on a train, let loose strain of your..., when you're trying to find, find.
Track Name: Art Fatigue
Art Fatigue

In London

If you go see a band you're in a room full of musicians yawning.
If you read a poem there's a room full of distracted poets.
If you go look at art, there's a room full of artists & critics.
If you watch a film, you're in a room full of actors, directors, film makers & they are all critics.

Where the fuck is the real audience, the ones who experience the true reflections of these things, the ones who have natural human reactions without academic scrutiny? Without true soul humanistic connection.

I asked someone why they don't dance here, he said his reason was that he hadn't been choreographed.
Track Name: Victoria

Come on, Victoria
Little bit faster now Victoria
Can't keep up with England nowadays, Victoria
Where you been tonight, Victoria?
Same old lines?
It was all opulence, etiquette and opium in your day, just for you, Victoria?

Wouldn't have minded a party at yours, V for Victoria,
Stole a lot of stuff from across the world with your, grand tour,
And swanked up a lot of sweet buildings, didn't you? sweet Victoria?

Dada daaada

Yet though the grimy docks & underbelly meant you left many of your people destitute, didn't you,
V, for Victoria,
Where are you now Victoria
Derelict Victoria
Yet you are still everywhere! Victoria,

Time you moved along now a bit, Victoria,
One more stop to Stockwell, Victoria, thank fuck I'm getting off now, Victoria, means this is coming to an end now..

dada daaaaada

Roll on roll on, Victoria
Roll on roll on Victoria.
Track Name: Atoms

I burn my psyche into your psyche,
I work my world into your world,
I find my joy in your joy,
I am awake further in your awakened freedom,

My life shines in your eyes,
Your life makes my life ring,
Resonating with shining energy,

We walk together out into the day like boundless spirits,
We spin out into the night like brightly lit atoms, strikingly visible, neon warriors fighting for the thrill of all thrills, life, existence without restriction.

With time and space at our disposal,
our command.