Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci
How I Long To Feel The Summer In My Heart CD - Mantra Recordings

God bless the summer in your hearts boys! How I long to feel the dripping rivers of my true love’s snatch. How I long to reach the befuddled teenage recluse, reading Montaigne by the ebbing glow of the fire-light, gripping tight each page, like adobe fisherman skinning their catch. How I long for feral house cats to surround my immortalized headstone: Here lies Joshua Gabriel: House Cat. I want to swing knickerless, sailing through the stratosphere, waving at all unassuming lunch-aides blowing harder their whistles! Screeee! Screeee! I want more than heaven can offer and less than my imagination will conjure. In between the jungles of paradise and the ocean of death lies separatist idioms of pure conjecture, I read from the scrolls and drank from the goblets; I will explain this record. Each of these twelve acoustic composites manages to elongate indie-rock’s penchant for timely and vacuous frailties. Resolutely combining empty whispers of delicate confessions left hastily dangling from the womb, I lay on my bed dazed by lullabies aching to be released. Alienating to the point of retaliation and giving to point of sacrifice, this no star cast of Welsh common folk resolve themselves in typographic homogeny, securing themselves in safe distances from the haunted cells of the outside world. Blue skies reflected in the eyes of alter boys and trendy primo donnas, self-gratifying immobilization and an inward war greater than the crusades. I am inspired by its lack of care, its institutional awkwardness and its deluge of normalcy. Even Gordon Lightfoot’s first album had more life than this motherfucker of a record. “Art for art’s sake, money for God’s sake.” (Josh Gabriel)



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