Eko Fisk – Atoll [SLNT127]
A bomb, an animal. Wings in inappropriate places, lungs like islands. Luminescent iris of the sea.
ambient
- play_circle_outline pause_circle_outline 1. Grapple [02:12]
- play_circle_outline pause_circle_outline 2. Sendec [05:22]
- play_circle_outline pause_circle_outline 3. Lens [02:12]
- play_circle_outline pause_circle_outline 4. Surface [05:20]
- play_circle_outline pause_circle_outline 5. Shoreline [07:25]
22 Nov 2020
Recommended
The moon is bright in the haze above old Hollywood, it's three o'clock in the morning, pill in hand you can hear the golden surfer boys.
We flew over a thousand years, travelled a vast distance. And when we got there, we were somewhere else. Then the Thunderbird took off her mask. She looked just like us.
Travel to escape, at the end of the yellow line, distant gods and faded signs.
Sounds from the space between sleep and waking, where the subconscious takes control.
A man wakes up at the side of a road in Death Valley, California. He wonders if he might be dead.