G

G.A.O.L.T.O.C.

(belongs to you)

This is something I am not sure about. For a while I have been thinking of doing this. This is where it all comes together and becomes one thing that all replies to what I thought in my head. The time has come for this to be drawn and the line to be set. 8 guitars and two microphones, two drum machines and two synths, projecting the spirit of my head as radio projects the spirit of the dead. Life will renew, renew, some day they say... Love and death are the opposites which combine to create consciousness which is equal to unconditionally life. Love and strife combine to become one. Without love life has meaning - one sided... I am not going to be like U2 or the rock and roll ideals of the 60s and 70s and say that everything is solved by love, or that love is the all powerful and force that can heal all, or that love is the blind or the dead or the anything else. Don=t get me wrong, I dig U2. There is a time when the untrue, the wishes and desires for the ideal becomes too much to handle. It gets to a point where it is time for ideals to awaken to reality. No, not an existential nihilistic perspective, though perhaps the reality is there. When one finally confronts the reality one is greeted with . . . silence. Pain. Death. And in small amounts that can be parsed and repressed all to easily by the head, which has a tendency to get things wrong. I suggest that you listen to this: all this pain belongs to you. All your time belongs to you. All your death belongs to you. The pain, the unbearable strain of the eyes reading the overly artistic and >beat= text belongs to you. The life of scrutiny and attention to work that maybe a friend brought to you or artistic statements that try so hard but don=t fly: for you. Errors in timing belong to you, you are the keeper of all that you perceive. Objectivity does exist in the eyes of the many. You are among the many who view this objectivity and don=t think to question it, don=t stop to check your perception and see what doors are open how much. You few who read and see me, see the writer, the person sitting at the computer at 1236 am on August 29 2000 thinking about things to say to try and convince you to think about what you are reading and to slow . . . down . . . and . . . read . . . each . . . word . . . Order sentences meaningless are words in no. Parse. Pay attention? All the disgust belongs to you, the criticism, the lack of attention to your dull and dreary mundanity . . . most of you are probably more thoughtful and deeper about what comes out than I am. This is why it belongs to you. The metaphor is yours, the rebuttal yours, all the eminems and anger in the world couldn=t live up to the real true communication, people saying everything they are to anyone else. This causes pain, it belongs to you. The text wraps neatly, printed, but the words ring falsely, boring, dull. Boring dull is life, art imitates life? This must be art... You can continue to scrutinize the gargantuan album of less than original concept, but this gargantuan album of less than original concept will continue to be. It will always occupy space, be it in the pain and death or in the life and love. Songs not necessarily perfect . . . 4 months of emotion then 2 weeks of life devoted . . . and soul poured, the opening of a door, see my insides, see how I am. I cloud with metaphor and ambiguity to protect myself against the wrath (belongs to you). You I thought I knew, I know I never will, because you will always own it all, all of it created in your eyes, and my contribution but a pittance in the grand scheme of all that is. The world runs governmentally and strongly despite your attempts to the contrary, and it will continue to - control you, control itself. Control is that which creates and that which prevents creation. A decided life, an entity independent of the individual. The world is a sopping heap of capitalism, a society where money replaces basic human need and decency and morality. If ethics are subjective, why do you feel angry when someone cuts in front of you in line? Why do you feel hurt when someone kills? The ethics are there, if in a diluted form. But when the humans are in control and the dehumanization of a system of control started by money isn=t, you will remember to not kill, you will remember that to give is better than to receive, you will remember what it was like to be good. God is there for us only if we think he is. (Belongs to you). Take solace in your angeldust, be acrobatic with the fucked up insomniacs, take randomness to be. R.E.M. is a hero in their own right, living without the regard (aka David Foster Wallace) to the comprehension. It is a greater and more robust, higher, and better way, not living in the day to day. Your time is of value only to you (belongs to you) and that is what controls whether you see what they do. To sit and watch a wall with light and air of dense and forgotten years with payphone muzak dripping through the 20 minute hold, not caring and constantly feeling. This is what can be had with the elimination of the evil of comprehension. (Belongs to you) The gargantuan album of less than original concept is perhaps more less gargantuan than original, if my modesty escapes me (belongs to you). To which I say, I can=t think about that and still release what I have always wanted to.

If you want to know where I am, what I think, where I come from, what I do, and who I love, who I am, I don=t know how to tell you. All that you know and all you want to know belongs to you, all will be. I quote what I am, I think who I am, and I will take nothing from you but your time, your attention. Your attention gives me life, it belongs to you. The modern poets will eventually take over and destroy the destruction that is being wrought by the industries that be. I subvert the industry because I don=t need it. So let this be a constant reminder. I am sorry. I am sorry to give so little with so many words, to give so little back from so much space. It is my hope that you will forgive identify and respect what is the best I could do which I hope will be better. Any criticism belongs to you, and any destruction you choose to place on me belongs to you. My broken pieces belong to you, bones, and bodies strewn about for you to collect at your desire, with your attention reserved for the occasion. The filler, the words, the symbolism, the metaphor, the lack of proper explanation is due to a few factors: personal inability to give what should be given to you, inability of you to accept the gift without some kind of excessive packaging, and the need of the world to accept things only in a diluted form. Hence what is given to you, hence all belongs to you, and hence I give everything to you. I wish to give special thanks to stephanie ben alex and clifton camus mccardell headman and brooks respectively, for their help. Inspiration, discussion, intellectual arguments, loving support and help in the times when down; equipment that made the recording of the album possible at all; support and help, equipment; and support and most importantly the video and art you are looking at. This music and information and everything contained in it is copyrighted by me, charlie detar, and reproduction is of such situation that I will be happy for the extra support, so I guess it=s fine. But hey, do not sell it, though it belongs to you, so distribute, but don=t make money from your distribution, because that is how I am able to make it. That=s why I sell these for two dollars. Covers expenses, etc. Gaoltoc thanks you, the gargantuan album of less than original concept, which hopes to subvert the destruction imposed by the riaa and the general status of the radio of the top forty variety.

Also, to give credit where it is due, keyboards on ADreams Become One@ are played by the most amazing keyboard player available, Kevin Dazet. Drumming on that number is provided by Steve Lyman. The phrase Aman that was a bitch move@ (from the song AThe Definitive Bitch Move@ was originally said by the venerable Edward Kim, and I thank him for it. The rest is me.

thanks, charlie detar

Triptych Journal of Exposition

I. Bus is half full

The bus is half full

the sun years away

light comes in the corner

the morning is late

the sounds of the traffic

peace in still motion

constant emotion

you breath out the world

breath in

the driver is distant

the passengers too but

can you connect with your high school ex girlfriend,

of hours on the phone

and hours all alone

it=s not enough

not enough

back on the street

firm cold concrete

sidewalk unrolls

under your feet

winds brought me here

winds

they told me about you,

your underworld castle __

where dreams become one

and lives become empty

your lonely repast

you stay the last

your walls in your walls

we are all in this world a stage -

and we are just players, but mine is a monologue

to you, the chorus

I preach to the choir

but the choir won=t keep faith,

the walls stay between us

your twilight is only alone

if you=re breaking your bones for the four walls around you

break down the fourth wall

touch me

touch you

touch me

touch you

touch me

touch you

touch me

touchyou

III. Page 2

i of you

wish i=d known

smuch as you

of me=ve shown

trees of green

skies of blue

i=ve not seen

enough of you

show me life

show me death

i can=t see

past my head

you have more

balanced be

i must know

what you mean

and i don=t mind

at all

i don=t mind

wish i

Could see you

as you see you

(as you see me)

Dreams Become One

Column One

We swing and we sway

with each passing day

with every turn

our dreams become one

thought slips away

though memories stay

spinning we learn

the course of the moon

oh yeah

oh, no, don=t make me go

oh, no, don=t make me go...

I need to stay today.

I need to go and play -

don=t make me run away . . .

I want to float away

spinning to dance;

dancing to spin

wobble and turn

float from the room.

But then comes the day

thoughts slay and stay

spinning I grill,

hold on to the hill

oh, no, don=t make me go -

oh, no, don=t make me go!

I need to stay today,

I need to go and play.

Don=t make me run away...

I want to float away.

away -

Oh girl please

can I call you any time

baby will you say that you=ll be mine

come on baby

treat me right

let me come inside tonight

hey hey

ooooh, I need your love so bad now.

Oooh, please, will you let me know if

all of the times we would just be friends -

all of the time we would thusly spend..

better ways we could spend.

oooh, I need your love so bad now.

Ooooh, please, will you let me know if

all of the times we would just be friends -

all the time we would thusly spend,

better ways we could spend.

Oh girl please,

can I call you any time?

Baby, will you say that you=ll be mine?

Come on baby, treat me right...

Let me come inside tonight,

hey hey.

Hey hey.

Candid

Grow and grow

to reach and know the way that I

will have to go to see my world

from overhead and hear my world

from overhead it=s wondrous here

to without fear

be held

Reach to reach you

feel to feel you

come around but not desire

cut my heart in two

what I forget

what I regret

can=t be out of

what is not yet

where I reach and

what I feel

can=t be out of what is real

one to be new

two my life to

three disown my

recognize you

you i last get

knew confess i on

me i think it

first loved but wrong

wish you could see words I cannot say

Reach to reach, to reach you and feel

feel to feel you

come around but not desire

cut my heart in two

I am paralyzed by you;

I try to think, I try to do

but mirrors drown me,

fear surrounds me,

canned discussion carries round me

light repels me

thought compels me

in my mind I have to dwell I=m

standing on the power eyes

I=m standing with the world=s demise

standing on the stand of all

standing ready ready fall

reach to reach you

feel to feel you

come around but not desire

cut my heart in two

Single

I think I=ll be

a fire man

to take care of the neighbors cat

I think I=ll be

a beurocrat

to make sure I have many hats

careful of the pious mass

careful not to drive to fast

let them know how I=ve a play

to build a castle in the sand and sea

what time will bring

see

what time will bring

I think I=ll be

a police man

to keep the riffraff off the land

stop the dreams

things are always what they seem

careful not to drive to fast take a walk with(/out) a friend

make your bite of chocolate last see another player=s hand

don=t be out after 8

riffraff come out when it=s late and see

what time will bring

see

what time will bring

but you=ll

never be

anything

but anhedonist

disease

to me

Hannuchay

GOOD NEWS

so far I=ve lived

so far I=ve been

so far I=ve died

to be with you

so far I=ve lived

all these dreams today, oh

so far I=ve been

to be with you

Hannuchay

hannuchay

and good news will come

good news will come

maybe not to day...

but someday -

someday good news

edwa

so far I=ve lived

so far I’ve been

so far I’ve died

for you

so far I’ve lived

to be with you

so far I’ve lived

all these dreams today, oh

so far I=ve been

to be with you

Hannuchay

Cold Coffee In the Pot

roll over to start your day

can=t remember anyway

any reason you should stay

it=s cold when in the throes of time

one should deign to make thee mine

but thee and thine to someone else

the love and ever life to profess

cool air can make me sleep

but summer ran a bit too deep

so unfulfilled thus I forget

the coldness that you can dispense

drip by drip the passing days

squeezed out of my forced restraint

condensed into a single cup

to you I toast, give it up

to you

I=ve got no one else to blame

I=ve got no one else but me

but me

The Definitive Bitch Move

man

man that was a bitch m

man

bitch move

move move move move

bitch move

move move move move

bitch move

manmanmanman

bitch move

manmanmanman

manmanmanman / movemovemovemove

movemovemovemove

man that was a bitch / bitch move

bitch move

man

movemovemovemove

man

movemovemovemove

bitch move

movemovemovemove

man

movemovemovemove

man that was a bitch

movemovemovemove

bitch move

movemovemovemove

bitch move

man that was a bitch /movemovemovemove

man that was a bitch move /movemovemovemove

manmanmanman

manmanmanmanmanmanmanmanmanmanmanman

manmanmanmanmanmanmanmanmanmanmanmanmanmanmanman / manmanmanman

manmanman /manmanmanman

manman manman manmanman /manmanmanman

movemovemovemove /manmanmanman

manmanmanmanmanmanmanmanmanmanmanmanmanmanmanman /manmanmanman

manmanman /manmanmanman

manman man man man manman /manmanmanman

movemovemovemove /manmanmanman

man that was a bitch move / manmanmanman

man that was a bitch move / manmanmanman / bitch move

man that was a bitch move