Cyclical Music, by Cyclical Music

Cyclical Music

by Cyclical Music

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1.	At the Strikers 06:11	lyrics	buy track
You’re just out of grasp Facial features fragmenting into blur As you roll past. Figment of my adoration Close yet far as constellation. I swear, I saw you at The Nelson. Are you coming? Do you fancy a drink? Do you remember? Do you understand? Didn’t we meet before? Lean up in the garden, eyes Raise to graffiti, streetlamps chiselling Cheekbones Near and so far. I swear I saw you at The Nelson Sleeve dip in bar slick, Boisterous, laughing with the bar staff Even when you tip the tip cup up No one bothers to make a fuss. Do you remember? Do you understand? We met before? You held my hand? You’re blurred under pink awning, Boot pressing a fag to the dirt, the flare catches on Green eyeshadow, hazel eyes almost close against the smoke, the light. But I swear I saw you slipping to the toilet for a bag Swaying, pondering the paintings Your ghost dances hot and lithe round every concrete column, circling me like you did, dazzling me like you did, and Didn’t we hold hands? Do you remember? Do you understand? By the time I gather strength to ask The moment’s gone, your shade has passed
2.	April Showers 00:29	lyrics	buy track
There is so much becoming to be done. The cries of other people’s children echo through window, off tile, to rouse your aching breast. Days pass, afternoon sun seeps into the pool of still warm water at your feet. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.
3.	Secret Argent 02:59	lyrics	buy track
You'd rung yourself out waiting for the one or two, but they were mind and body, here all along. You don't have to run when it hurts to crawl. You don't have to know everything. You don't have to know everything. There's nothing wrong with you. Opening is so often breaking. Softening is so often hard. Mending hurts, draws focus like the itch of a newly formed scab. Try not to pick at yourself Tip your toes past the confines of eggshell perfection, past safety and solidity, into roots. The space between is sacred - those who live there know. The space between is elemental, formless essence. (Formless, shapeless, endless) Who knows how long, who knows how low How deep the crevasse, how sharp the slope. There is so much becoming to be done. There is so much becoming to be done. The cries of other people’s children echo through window, off tile, to rouse your aching breast. Days pass, moonlight shifts over the pool of still warm water at your feet, over the tension of your knee, over your worn hips, over your tense shoulders, your taut jaw. There’s nothing wrong with you. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.
4.	Rupture 06:30	lyrics	buy track
The imprint of your intervention lay eerie on my breast We lay together in liminal space, in utter disgrace Unable to leave the zone of discomfort To contort ourselves beyond projection Anonymous and lonely, unproductive and alive. How can you tell photoshop from fate? When the mouth moves so convincingly. When the mouth movements are so convincingly aligned, it’s deep They make you say whatever they want. Make you say: More, more more. Make you say: My discomfort is illusion And rest is for the weak. You’ve been here before. So kick the brick from out your lip Kick misguided faith in the all powerful ‘L’ Train to non-place, to hyperdrive Through overheated junkspace Formless, shapeless, endless You, half empty, again. Left between everyone and no one, Like tipped chair on stained carpet, Like a window left ajar Anonymous and lonely, unproductive and alive. Again The imprint of your intervention lay eerie on my breast Again Again Again Again Again
5.	Repair 03:17	lyrics	buy track
What do rib cages and spines know? Grey areas are not a flaw but part of the design. Returning to intimacy After harm. Plug hole, sink hole collapse. Accepting uncertainty in the imprint when the mouth moves like a tipped chair, like A stained window, like a jar. To be fluid is messy some structures respond as if you need to clean yourself up. We don’t want to share our spillages, we want to be dry, not in need of each other. (See figure 4.) How tentatively we pull away. Spaces that make my mouth dry and language fail. Sensation of being outside again Insisting my reality is real.
6.	He Remembers With a Smile 01:38	lyrics	buy track
He told me: ‘Be kind to yourself.’ I’d almost forgotten how we’d clung to each other, how i could feel his heart pounding against mine. How the hug lasts slightly too long, how tentatively we pull away. He remembers with a smile things that bring me shame. It is very difficult to tell someone you love to stop seeing someone they love. Uniquely difficult to put your feelings first, at least for certain types of people. I’ve always been a cynic, but I’ve tried to do the right thing. Difficult. To see him sat across the living room, legs crossed. Interesting, a chance to read the situation without judgement. The sensation of being outside again. Accepting that I’ve chosen how it goes, how and where to connect and with whom adds calm, some hope. Feeling difficult to sit in my blessings without lguilt. A lack of compassion. I find it too much, maybe everyone else does too. Time to think is so fucking precious.
7.	Sleep- 07:08	lyrics	buy track
Love is not obsession. Love is not a brown curl falling on a wide shoulder. Love is not the waiting. Love is not the wait. Love is not the warmth in your gut when you feel them looking at you from across the room. Love is not control, nor is it controlling. Love is not the smashing of glass. It is not a fist through a wall, no matter how hard they try to convince you. Love is not isolation. It is not the pull in the middle of the night, nor is it waking with tears in your eyes, clutching their memory to your maw. Love is not endorphins, the flood and the rush. Love is not us against them, ‘you wouldn’t do that if you loved me’. Love is not sleepwalking, nor is it sleep. I won’t ask you to taste me on your lips, nor to feel the mana from my desperate phone call in the dark. I won’t ask you to wake with my smile on your brow, nor to want to hold me when the moon is high and wild. I won’t ask you to want me over muesli, nor to press your morning mouth to mine. I won’t ask you to wonder where I go in dreams, nor to wonder how ours can entwine and blossom. I can’t ask for your laughter when I’m silly, nor your forgiveness when I fail. Ask. Only you can give. I can’t ask you to hear me through the fog of my misadventures, nor to see me through the glamour. I won’t ask you to apologise. I won’t ask you to stay. I can’t ask you to stay. I can’t ask. I won’t ask. It’s not love.
8.	-Wake 04:16	lyrics	buy track
Wake Coffee Morning after An open window, last night's rain still stains the pavements Closing the blinds against the builders outside, the rumble of roadworks and people Your face soft against my pillow, our hair entangled Shadowed sheets you're going to be late for work babe. Again. And you're actually closer from mine. Black silicone absurd against monstera And wonderful you The quiet in your absence more sweet for your presence The wonder of waiting Last night Last night the words we could not say bubbled on our tongues On our lips, between us Two seas kiss, an ocean apart And you, with your bright heart And the words I cannot say

about

Cyclical Music is a collaborative spoken word and music project from Curtis Elvidge and Lalah-Simone Springer. Cyclical Music explores themes of liminal spaces through the lens of romantic relationships, suggesting that liminal spaces are a place for ‘becoming’. Each track on the EP leaves space for the listener to bring their own experiences. The genre is electronic, ambient low-fi jazz.

The themes align with Springer’s first poetry collection, ‘An Aviary of Common Birds’, an exploration of love, loss and working class relationships, which is due to be released in August 2023.

After discussing the inspiration behind Elvidge’s music stems, Springer wrote spoken word performance pieces in a variety of styles to fit; building on the artistic dialogue began in ‘More Than Two’ with Jasmine Johnson, which culminated in a 2020 Barbican Residency. The ‘dialogue’ style of production saw Springer writing in live sessions with Elvidge, and once they had recorded Springer’s voice, and likewise discussing the meaning of the piece, and where emphasis should lay, and how this can be conveyed using both the music, voice and words. Through this artistic process, Elvidge and Springer gained a deeper understanding of each other’s communication styles, and learned more about their personal perspectives on love and romance.

credits

released August 10, 2023

Cyclical Music is Lalah-Simone Springer and Curtis Elvidge

Words by Lalah-Simone Springer
Music by Curtis Elvidge

Words were first published by Broken Sleep Books in An Aviary of Common Birds by Lalah-Simone Springer

Drums on tracks 1 & 4 by Benoit Parmentier
Marimba on tracks 4 & 5 by Benny Clark
Vocals on tracks 7 & 8 by Liz Gre

Recorded at the Premises Studio A, London

Mixed by Curtis Elvidge

Mastered by Cicely Balston at AIR Studios

Artwork by Joe Gamble