Archive Drop: Flux Hound — Numb Sermon Clinic Cards

archive drop

2 Mar

In 2018, Melbourne dark-jazz outfit Flux Hound followed their Demolished Man LP with The Numb Sermon (VVR004) a record built around the cycle of a heroin addict. Relief. Withdrawal. Death. Repeat.

Each track arrives with a clinical patient record, consistent in format but contaminated in the details. The cold facts sit up top, the real story leaking through in the cadence of the music. Taken together, the files read like institutional paperwork, the rhythms a diary of a broken addict.

1: Lennox                          LISTEN

The walk to the hot spot, first time. Street full of informants, windows with eyes, cameras with teeth. Bubble in the bloodstream, paranoia in the throat. Hit the corner and the body goes cold.

4: Doom Of Hand                    LISTEN

The moment punches like winter, and the body understands, signing its name in defeat. Sweet futures vanish in one titanic spike rush, bitter pasts the only leg to stand on.

Track 7: Naloxone                  LISTEN

The inevitable cheap easy arrives in tablet form. Cold and practical. Heroin and naloxone share the same pocket, two doses for one day. Staying alive turns into another habit.

2: Bruise Theory                   LISTEN

What if they clock the arms? Long sleeves, cuffs clamped, bare skin now a concealed contraband. Will I ever wear a t-shirt again, or did I just sign my arms away?

5. Go Flux Yourself                LISTEN

The monolith ascends; warmth turns to frost, icing the room, icing the day, icing names once uttered with feeling. People fragment: the face, the voice, the obligation. A 5/4 pulse in a 4/4 time.

Track 8: The Hanging Tree          LISTEN

Naloxone blocks the receptors. Veins collapse. Every falsehood, insecurity and lie steps into the bright white light. The children are playing. The public oak tree pencils in a date.

3: Clockwork Syringe               LISTEN

Junk runs the schedule, precious minutes classified, stamped, filed in the vein. Needle replaces the tick tock hands, clock ticking in punctures, never forgetting, fretting.

6. Pulse 9                         LISTEN

The heart slows, blood thickening to treacle, heavy in the pipes, reluctant. The body sits listening to its own propaganda, awaiting the next invasion with glee.

Track 9: The Time Has Come         LISTEN

One vanishes, and a replacement treads to the hot spot. Street full of informants. Bubble in the bloodstream, paranoia in the throat. Hit the corner. Body goes cold.