Cerulean Impulses

by Mattie Konig

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about

Recorded and produced from September 2016 to April 2017

credits

released April 14, 2017

Mattie Konig - composition, production, sequencing, vocals, keyboards, melodica, acoustic guitar, percussion, field recordings, cover design

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Mattie Konig UK

British trans girl who makes weird multi-genre experimental music. Hi, how's it going?

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Track Name: Cerulean Impulses
and the world of her not-so wildest dreams is revealed in all its technicolour glory; streets named after trees and flowers and noblefolk; a sky more blue and sunshine more warm than any she’s felt in a decade; logos one major brand identity revision ago; boys and girls with names and faces forgotten, now vying to play and draw and work on history projects with her; tube tracks spiralling into eternity, the district line train to kingdom come via earls court; the shop where the fire happened; the park paths and dense forest clearings that she thought would never end; the conservatories and skylights and belgian comic offices that did; 80s federation-style opulence and the sons of sloane rangers; outdoor lidos bathed in the glorious stink of chips and cornetti; the fuckoff-huge shopping center near the underpass, the abbey mills, the city farm and the tram line; a thousand tiny memories, compressed into two minutes of granular delay and mellotron chords. cerulean impulses, five hours up the m5
Track Name: Every Day A Plane Crash
P
D
D
-
N
O
S

Every day a plane crash
Contained within my broken brain

Picking up the pieces
A legacy of confused screams

If you think I’m flirting
You’ve got the wrong impression mate

Got to be in order
Perform my rituals on time

Twenty years of thrashing
A bulletproof glass window

A broken brain is no fun to have

Oh they might confuse me
Oh there’s no help for me
Oh that I might lose me
Oh there’s no hope for me

A broken brain is no fun to have
Track Name: Freakache
Then you led me astray
Through Simpson communications

Mistakes were made
And mistakes were born
Through pen
Through desire
Through leathery object like egg or something

But what if he stole features from his compadres
But what if he fixated on shooting hoops
But what if he was foiled by a simple trap
Mi hijo

Certain conditions would make it ideal
Bequeathed in useless impressions
A leg in one hand

This is only a tiny window into here
A tiny window into here
You haven’t seen anything like it
I haven’t heard anything yet

Then comes a bone chilling dream
Then comes a shirt filling scream

But what if she descended in half a second
Bobolyne
But what if he let her go with tearful eyes
Flip It
The folder totals roughly three hundred pictures
Eclair
Mi baboo

I’ll be dead and gone before you find out about the archive
I’ll be choking barf before you take heed of my collection
I’ll be underground before you find out about the green men

I think
It will continue to gnaw away at my mental and emotional faculties
Until a gibbering bawling spunk-filled wreck is all that’s left
Fucked over by visions of ongoing stories
Fucked over by visions of a more friend-shaped world
Track Name: Juvenilia
I played with his hair
Through long sausage class summer days
I don’t think he liked it very much

I played with them live
As my strip bombing OAP
I don’t think they liked it very much

I played with my time
With nude posters and butcher’s trips
I don’t think I liked it very much

I played with their heads
With jokes only I found funny
I don’t think we liked it very much

I solidified
My reputation as a creep
No sense of boundaries or awareness

Twenty four months
Of sorrow and joy
The best times I ever had

Best not to think
Of what could have been
I’m leaving behind that lad

Now I stop and think of all I left behind and now I realise I liked it more than I thought now I wish I could’ve done it all again and repeat all the fun but with some added hindsight now I only can look back at what could have been and relive those glory years inside my broken brain

Juvenilia
Track Name: Joe's Place
At Joe’s place you will find:

Improper chicken nugget etiquette
A broken ice luge
A breakneck journey from Heathrow
An offer to go to Wells
A well-tuned piano
A red room
One half of a toast sweat session
Cuddles (no homo)
Bluish on CD
“Weed” (?)
Memories both old and new alike
And a dearly departed fucking cat
Track Name: Linear A
Piaroustika
Ma shkreiden deies
Piaroustika
Gisya goub aletar

Piaroustika
Ta shkreiden veioles
Piaroustika
Gisya goub golionar

-

user class in thots been waiting for you
and cawldry; a misplaced hoop
running
thumping
she rides like wind on displaced dreams

the sky has grown old
ready to rain down cerulean judgements on us all
be they suits in high towers or involved in kin drama

storms coming
and like sumer and aratta before us
our skylines will soon be eroded
to bedrock

with this news
i smiled
poured myself another strawberry nesquik
and let the music embrace me one last time

water surround me
liquid jetsam surround me
fill up the room
and every other damn room in kernow

the stars are going in

-

So why make more songs
If all they’ll do is repeat sounds and themes and lyrics

Scary strings
Warbles in reverb
Cliches and oversharing

Worn out and hoary
The same old story
I have so much to say but I don’t have the time or voice to say it
Track Name: Put The Knife Down Girl
Finding myself doing a lot of languishing
Lectureless since I starved myself in October
Fake compliments for truth and dare don’t raise my hopes
I want a hug but I guess we both know that isn’t going to happen

Finding myself doing a lot of anguishing
Wondering how I let myself regress to Saturday morning infantdom
Every interpersonal interaction offline a bust
My feet are at Moorgate and the carpet under my feet

Finding myself doing a lot of brandishing
Of dressing gown belt nooses soon to be wrapped around my Eve’s apple
Going outside on the dawn of the new age and finding a suitable tree
How I stopped myself I’ll steal it nobody will ever know

…tuneless tune and hairy hands and screaming soul and broken brain and fire alarms and muscle man and social skills and arnold layne and…

can you hear me?

yes I can hear you
and I know what to do

in the kitchen
first drawer on the left
there I will find it

bring it back to my room
undress

raise
lower to flesh

make in-cis-ion

and cut

and cut

and cut

PUT THE KNIFE DOWN GIRL

And finally
After twenty years of thrashing
The bulletproof window shatters

Shredded to ribbons
Delicate pink silk ones
That flutter and fall ever so gracelessly
And land right by my tummy
More shit for the cleaners along with all the blood

All my misgivings and all of my outbursts and all of my slights
Boiled down to one ugly and unconvincing moment

I’m not some evil mastermind
Plotting and planning on how best to ruin people’s lives
Bad hubris just accompanies me on my quest to figure things out
A constant spectre that taints everyone it meets

They say some people should never be allowed to sing
Well it’s a good thing my song is almost done

You don’t have to deal with all your problems if you haven’t got a consciousness to house them in anymore
Picture of that man tapping his head and smiling like he knows something I don’t
Oh just let’s end this once and for all

Every fight is the same
And this last fight’s so bad for me
I’ve got no more strength left in me
Just enough energy to do
What should’ve been done long ago

PUT
THE
KNIFE
DOWN
GIRL
Track Name: Promise
This time I really messed it up
Ignorance and want clouded my vision
And despite my longing to do good
I ended up causing so much harm instead
Until I was rightfully vilified and banished

I had a feeling it would come one day
I knew it was inevitable
An error too far
The last of many

Burdens that I never meant to induce
Fears that I never meant to plant
People that I never meant to pain

Too late for them
Too late for me
To rectify and make change
No apology or amends can help
No promises

I bore a barbed wire cross
Hubris in old complicated things
The wasted years and wounded friends
The ideas that no longer represented me

And I had to say goodbye to them
When I knew that they were mad
And I promised I wouldn’t hurt them
Ever again

I promised
Over and over and over
Until nothing was left
And I died
And I died
And I died

But it’s not too late

I know I pained others and made mistakes
And for that I can only apologise
But it’s not the end of my life
It’s a learning experience
It’s a work in progress
It’s my journey

It’s not too late to fix my broken brain
And this time I’ll fix it better
I promise

I’ll identify my past wrongs
Take measures to prevent repeats
Let those who hate me leave my life
And let those who love me surround me with their love

This time I want to show you
The human being I could become
A lovely kind of selfless girl
A hug personified

And if I have to say goodbye
When I know that you are sad
Then I promise this is a happy ending
For you and me

I’ll promise
Over and over and over
Until I’m born again
And I’ll live
And I’ll live
And I’ll live

I will soar from the ashes
like a true flyer with wings

And the love inside of me
will shine brighter than the sun

I will swim cerulean oceans
leaving impulses behind

I’ll become the Mattie that I want to be
and that’s a promise.