exit

by INTENTIONS

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1.
02:50
2.
03:47
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about

In March-April 2012 INTENTIONS went on our last tour, and in late May Jon moved to Berlin, so sometime in between those two events we set up in the front room at Black Wire Records with Jivin' Josh and recorded these four songs. They're all more or less live takes of us playing together in a room (the vocals were overdubbed on tracks 1-3).

We held onto these because we thought that we might do another physical release, but it should be obvious three years later that uh yep we didn't get around to it.

Anyway, DIY/emo/punk/hardcore (esp. in Australia) is full of bands releasing stuff ages after it was recorded and/or after the band in question has broken up. Here's our humble contribution to that great/shitty tradition. As No Action said: "What is this but a lifelong protracted forgetting?"

It's dedicated with great thanks and love to the friends and lovers, near and far, that we met while INTENTIONS existed.

- Simon Unwin, April 2015

credits

released April 6, 2015

Jonathan - drums
Vidan - guitar
Simon - bass/vox

produced and mixed by Josh Dowton

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INTENTIONS Ashfield, Australia

Independent band from Sydney, Australia.

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Track Name: Fatigue
Again it’s time to go through motions: pin down chords and throw rock poses. Can you tell we've come down with fatigue? What saved the day has become routine. The songs signify nothing more than themselves; what called for liberation just calls to itself. And could you tell when we came down with fatigue? We ceased to be a movement and dissolved into scenes. We’re reproducing the towers ivory. We used to make speeches, now we don’t speak.
Track Name: Exit Mould
It’s been raining now for weeks. I feel the dampness when I breathe. My clothes go mouldy on their racks. The house foundations shift and crack. Help me scrub this mould away – I don’t want to face decay, or biodegrade. I’m only meat and I know now: from here the only way is down, down! The overgrowth obscures the walls; so soon we won’t be here at all – skin turned to paper, bones to dust, brain to grey and darkened mush. Help me scrub away this mould. We’re never ready to grow old, oh no – for rot and rust and fallen leaves; for death, decay and entropy… for when we’ll no longer be.
Track Name: Summer Hill Ministry Of War
On a darkened corner at the end of the street, the overgrown house breathes a military beat. It repeats and repeats, itches trigger fingers and marching feet. It’s like a lunatic hollow curse. It’s a senseless flag on a senseless hearse. I am afraid of the hawk of war who dreams behind that deadlocked door. I am afraid of the war.
Track Name: Functionalist Dream II
We’re magnets for ill-shaped cogs in machines. I just realised my role in the functionalist dream. This escape route? It leads straight back to the maze - we’re doomed to wander the rest of our days. We’ll inspire only our own replacements, and end up wondering where the days went. This escape route? It leads straight back to the maze, and we’re doomed to wander the rest of our days.