fallout & shrapnel

Most of all in the world; I fear the men who fear nothing.

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shardstyle

The thing about a city is that you can't choose who lives in it with you. It's like family - You can't choose them, but you can choose to renounce them.

I mean, most of us in the underground dance/enlighten substance use community are eminently sensible people. Not many of us are caught fucking domestic animals in the street at three AM, and when we are, we are always found to be using protection.

The same is not true on the western outskirts, where I happened to find myself during a research trip last week. Oh, no. In the district called armadale, things are very different indeed.

In armadale, the first thing you notice are the faces. Even in a city like ours, containing the dregs of every gene pool on earth, you can detect the difference in these people. These are the people of urban myth. The people of the smashed chromosone. The people who who let their children know when there's a warrant out. The people who drank the intellectual suppresants in the water supply instead of the clean water helicoptered in during the rescue operation.

Guys in tan leather flares, idly jacking off into the road, keeping one lazy eye on the female newsreader on the television screen by his left foot. Hundreds of kids with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, running around screaming while their beserk mothers continue to pump out more of those little fuckers for those few months of soft maternal comfort and baby-bonus rebates from each before they start moving and never stop.

I don't want to turn on my fellow human, I really don't. But I saw these people believing everything they saw on the TV. They believe that Howard was a good man. They believe in God. They believe in justice. They believe in Knight Rider.

These people are the enemy. Upgrade your sexual organs today, so that we may leave them behind.

People keep saying to me, you're doing a really good job, Xan. You're writing what needs to be said. You're changing things. And it's all bullshit. I'm not changing anything. I'm a journalist, a dope-sick narcissist with an overblown sense of self-worth and a chip on my shoulder four pipes tall. All I can do is give you the tools to understand the world so that you can change things.

And I'm stuck here, hoping only that you do.

i suppose an explanation for my absence is in order...

with sawtooth nerves woven parasitically into the studio sub's voice coils, and arteries pumping a slurry of pure amphetamine and liquid uncertaintly, the symbiotic audio infection known only as ILLOJIQUAL spread its fibre-optic tendrils wide into the bass swamp of Perth's underground dance music scene; plucking from the chaos internationally renowned hardcore master Auscore and dumping him in a flask of anhydrous ammonia with the rogue doctor of WA psytrance, ergo__t0xin://

the full ramifications of this mad aurochemical experiment are yet to be seen; but already illojiqual have defined their place in modern electronic music with a corrosive glitchkrieg of meaty kicks; cruelly ambient bass and neurolytic rhythms guaranteed to short-circuit the synapses and draw out the malleable; snaring them on the dancefloor in a gravely immersive ego trance



exclusively previewed here is a teaser clip of '0pacity'; the magnum opus of their debut EP, to tweak the synapses and get your hearts cramping for moar.

core values

new project in the pipes... Possibly my most important musical work to date.

Updates promised


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i am not the best people

I don't know how to stop the ringing in my ears, or the pounding grind behind my eyes.

The dull crackle of electricity somewhere in the distance... I think this is what it must feel like when you realise you haven't been GOING mad, you've been mad all along - and that your daily struggle to keep the reigns on the 'sanity' you clung to as a last hope for a better future - has been as futile as trying to catch ash out of the wind.

You see, it's a ghost I'm chasing. An empty echo on the bootsector... But to suddenly realise that this intangible white sail on the horizon... Is nothing more then dead light in the back of my eyes?

I feel like I have been here before. Deja vu - what was it? That means they changed something?

Nothing's changed.

Nothing lasts but nothing is lost.

I can't remember what I did the last time... I don't know what to do.

If anyone out there is still listening

Have I... Have we... Danced here before? Once, or twice, or more?


:/remote data transmission received from field transponder [ergo_tel]

doctors log; circa 2023

Years later, when the government jackboots stormed my compound in the final great clash of the signal wars; my work would be seized and I was branded a war criminal for my help with Project Namaste.

They burnt everything to ashes - all my notes, hard drives and glassware. They poured bleach and lime into the prion spawning cells, set thermite charges in the memory banks, and melted down the voice coils on the vast subwoofer batteries I had lined the sea floor around my offshore data mining platform with.

All that remained of my work were what few vinyl backup crypto platters we'd put into cold storage, and the scattered nostalgia of a million jaded souls that we had dared to try and reach through 145bpm hypnosis - a kind of vague, psychedelic trance-like state of peace and divine wonder.


:/remote data transmission received from field transponder [ergo_tel]

Do you know how infuriating it is

To have a beautiful, clever girl you always wanted to sleep with when she was dating your friend; turn around and say the same once she's single and living on the other side of the country?

God is playing games with me.

Do you ever feel like you're living in a movie? It seems to happen altogether too often these days...

When it does, I just light another smoke and remind myself;

"There is a man, at a typewriter..."


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