Artist: ssaliva
Title: we never happened
Format: 12 inch vinyl (incl. download)
Release date: 18th of January 2017
Cat no: EKS012
Edition: 500
Order vinyl here.
(shipping within 7 days)
Available digitally here
Release show was on the 27th of January 2017 at "Trap", Antwerp
Title: we never happened
Format: 12 inch vinyl (incl. download)
Release date: 18th of January 2017
Cat no: EKS012
Edition: 500
Presenting the second ssaliva release on Ekster: “We Never Happened”. 180g vinyl with cover artwork by Charles-Henry Sommelette. Comes with pantone printed inner-sleeves and silk screened oversleeve.
Order vinyl here.
(shipping within 7 days)
Available digitally here
Release show was on the 27th of January 2017 at "Trap", Antwerp
Tracklist:
A1: panel
A2: scope
A3: regen
A4: oxy
A5: protection 4
A6: cut
B1: void
B2: i appreciate your concern
B3: gone
B4: rapture
B5: surge
B6: amo
I am a vessel. A muffled mass. A bulk. Extent. A womb. I move. So I am neither here nor there. Always somewhere in between. To give substance to this frame, I carve out a piece of me. Sometimes a shape, sometimes a form. Into this space I pour what besieges me: words, pictures, you. So we can become me. Viscosity and temperature dictate the time it takes. When it is done, I break the mold I am. I take the cast inside and place it by the others.
That is when it starts tormenting me. It gives a face to the unsaid and an empire to what I could not bury. It now has a weight and a consistency I can no longer avoid. Still eager to escape, I turn my back on it and hobble ineptly away. But the space it has left within my frame begins to throb. It flickers, moans and aches. It chars. I can sometimes ignore what's there, but I can never hide from what’s gone. So I run. (Text: Fred Aerden)
That is when it starts tormenting me. It gives a face to the unsaid and an empire to what I could not bury. It now has a weight and a consistency I can no longer avoid. Still eager to escape, I turn my back on it and hobble ineptly away. But the space it has left within my frame begins to throb. It flickers, moans and aches. It chars. I can sometimes ignore what's there, but I can never hide from what’s gone. So I run. (Text: Fred Aerden)