S​/​T LP

by Negative Scanner

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djepan
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djepan Rebecca's got a powerful, commanding voice. It kicks ass. The band whips up a dissonant racket. The attack is lean. The attack is forceful. They're good. They have elements of Sonic Youth but are more rocking and with fantastic vocals. But they go beyond comparisons; they're really good and really unique. Favorite track: Saturday Night and Sunday Morning.
Creepy Cody
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Creepy Cody Rebecca is the sort of fierce powerhouse that can only be contained by the length of a pop song. She plays guitar like someone just barely being held back from taking a swing square at your jaw. Favorite track: Saturday Night and Sunday Morning.
Adonis
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Adonis Rebecca's voice is Powerful with emotion and depth Favorite track: Gone Wild.
Art Fin
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Art Fin Fierce and uncompromising, vitriolic, dark post-punk from Chicago. Tight band and a standout singer with a commanding presence, Rebecca Valeriano-Flores. Great live too: www.youtube.com/watch?v=XmoHyFdzac8 Favorite track: Pity.
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  • Trouble in Mind Records - NS S/T LP

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credits

released July 10, 2015

Recorded in the Fall of 2014 by Negative Scanner, with overdubs and mixing by Mike Lust. Mastered by Mikey Young.

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about

Negative Scanner Chicago, Illinois

Can only be described by negation. Unknowable, ungraspable, unpredictable, non-identical. We don't even sound like this BANDCAMP

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Track Name: Ivy League Asshole
Standing clean in their button downs. First and last undone, untucked with creases. Buy me another round. They wanna climb to the top. Work 9 to 5 driving dad's old car. Fighting for a parking spot. The boys travel far. Skyscraper shoulders and before long, it's late. Late outside and dark. Never sleeping, they're the last ones up. Midwest and east coast babes travel in packs playing high school games. Suck and blow makes me feel faint. Bloody marys on their lunch breaks. Pouring drinks into glasses 'til their girlfriends complain. Why don't you take one of their business cards? Die inside when they play their guitars. Watching you watch them. They see you but you can't see them. Steeped in white privilege, they like your attitude and willingness. It's you they want to possess. And do you like it when they're in control? Tie you up until your wrists are raw. Fighting until you're too sore. Sentiment is for romantic slaves. Don't wanna listen to your fucking tirade or think about thinking. Don't wanna think about thinking.
Track Name: Criticism
Simulation. Stimulation. All you want is some conversation. You go on and on about your condition.

All important desperation. Depthless, shameless, without patience. You go on and on about your alienation.

Do you own it? Did you pay for it? You go on and on about how you deserve it.

Intellectual importance? The more exclusive, the more you want in.
Track Name: Low
Distinctions between substance.
Parting lips and speaking nonsense,
belted hips and wrists crossed and
in the dreams you had, well, I fucking lost it.

Am I spineless? Can’t I take it?
Empty speeches and I can’t even say it.
But I can hear it in the back of my throat.
Like a heartbeat, low, low, low.

Fuck the new flesh, fuck my new flesh,
like ripped out bone from the back of my neck.
See my lungs and my veins are pulsing,
reach underneath and pull it, pull it out of me.

Like a heartbeat,
deep in my throat,
I can hear it,
low, low, low.
Track Name: Gone Wild
Do you watch her burning bright,
her stretch marks crossed like tiger stripes.
And do you want her, heart and soul?
The substance immaterial.

Line by line.
Loading time.
Space and time.
Can you see?
Do you see?

Do it to her on the record. Never any eyes on you.
She wants all the sick and lovely messages until she pukes.

Line by line.
Loading time.
Space and time.
Can you see?
Do you see?
Can’t you see?
Have you seen?
Track Name: C.P.D.
Tireless violence – it decides if you side with it.
Symbolic violence. Now, do you want it? Submit to it.

Down on your knees, back facing me.
Cuffed behind, spread those thighs.

Symbolic violence. He tied you up to his white mattress.
Symbolic violence. We met online and I consent to it.

Don’t set me free, C.P.D.
Get off easy, C.P.D.
Track Name: Would You Rather
Holed up in your hiding place:
a dimly lit cave, off Division Street haste.
Friends all make you wanna hide your face.

Nothing is worth all your pain,
not love, not sex. Nothing will ever be the same.
It’s all the same shit, just a different day.

Could we return there, drive through rain?
Gas station coffee, highway star gaze.
Stare out windows, wondering if you’ll dissipate.

Will you dissipate?

Wait in the dark while they’re all asleep.
Count down from a hundred and wait for me;
at zero, set me atop a washing machine.

Say it sounds sweet, a perpetual tease,
the idea was better than it ever could be.
Sublimation. Or are you done with me?

Am I just a novelty?
Do you like it when I beg and plead,
or would you rather just sit at home and read?

Would you rather sit at home and sleep?

Or you could walk into the woods, and I’ll walk into the sea.
Never stop, never stop, never stop walking.
Never stop, never stop, and we’ll never meet.
Track Name: Planet of Slums
It never ends, don’t you forget it.
After a while, he’ll just wanna talk to you but he’ll pretend
that he’s better than it. He’s better than it.
After all, you’ve just been a little slut, a cunt, a bad friend.

It never ends, I hope you forget it.
Struggle to end it but just find yourself with her again.
Don’t you miss your friends or have your secrets replaced them?
Don’t you miss your friends or do you need to suffer to prove their existence?

You’re nothing, you’re nowhere,
no shape, no form,
contented in darkness,
navigate through nothingness.

You’re nothing, nowhere,
no shape, no form.

Nothing.
Track Name: Saturday Night and Sunday Morning
Saturday night and Sunday morning,
descend a staircase, start by puking.
Orange tea stains, working ‘til late.
Walking home alone: another drunk date.

Is this the girl you wanna marry?
Have a kid and move away from me.
Your parents love her, our little duckie.
Child bearing hips, and you’re gonna see her on…

Saturday night and Sunday morning.

Easy at 25, free yourself then.
Always wanted to try this other girl and
after a while, sick in bed when
it’s time to leave her. Duck’s been waiting.

Are my lips beet-red? Come in and kiss them.
Meet me at the beach, show up late, then.
Let’s go for a walk, after the rain and
look through houses. Or have you forgotten?

On Saturday night and Sunday morning.
Track Name: Fan vs. Wild
Sometimes I think of you when the air is cool. Thick fog, a sea of blue, headlights push through. Speed through main streets, packed into tight seats. San Diego’s sea side – Ocean Beach.

Do you ever think of me, California breeze? San Francisco’s Mission Street with cups of coffee. You kissed me on the cheek and I cried all night just to see you with your hands in your pockets.

We kissed in a photo booth, black and white proof. Stood close in the Empty Bottle’s front room. You left in the middle of the night with sad eyes. Not enough time – different lives.

Sometimes I think of you, wandering through courtyards, dead cars. Who are you talking to? Could you see me, flying across the sea? Would you forgive me for acting so recklessly?
Track Name: Forget It
Like a ruined flower
under a slow and deaf beast.
Petals crushed underneath
into soil, soft and damp with
cold and heavy rain.
Seems everything is the same.

Forget everything you know, let's
forget everything we know.

Sleep in the folds of my skin,
blanket of tangled hair.
Tell me if you find anything there.
A growing, rotting mole
sprouts ugly over bone.
Pretend it doesn’t show.

Forget it.
Track Name: Pity
He was a dark and shrouded thing walking between
black trees and rocky cliffs, always climbing.
And the paths that lead from death slowly disappeared,
disappeared as we left.

Do you want to get higher?
Do you want it, do you will it?
Will to power.
Do you have a reason
or is it just a fiction?

What attracts you higher, divine beauty?
Pure as night before sun rises, black as the sea.
At the end of the path, we’ll jump in, moonlight shimmering
and together we’ll stroke to the deep.

Do you want to get higher?
Do you want it, do you will it?
Will to power.
Do you have a reason
or is it just a fiction?
Are you completely pitiless?
Is your suffering meaningless?
Am I asking the right question?
Do you eternally overcome?

Do you have a reason
or is it just a fiction?

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