• Fox Den
  • Fanciful Sound Triangles
    • FOXBAR
    • Leftovers
    • Divine Null
    • Persona
    • Minimum Detectable Activity
    • Honourable Mention
    • Latent Image
    • Tired World
    • Mate
    • Clone
    • Dated Sunset
    • Hybrid Night
  • Peeper Candies
  • Snaggly toof piccies
  • Stylish Stockings
  • Tricksy Thinker
  • Nose Boop

greatFox

  • Fox Den
  • Fanciful Sound Triangles
    • FOXBAR
    • Leftovers
    • Divine Null
    • Persona
    • Minimum Detectable Activity
    • Honourable Mention
    • Latent Image
    • Tired World
    • Mate
    • Clone
    • Dated Sunset
    • Hybrid Night
  • Peeper Candies
  • Snaggly toof piccies
  • Stylish Stockings
  • Tricksy Thinker
  • Nose Boop

greatFox

"Divine Null" (2008)

Divine Null

Divine Null

greatFox

Buy album
View on Bandcamp
A concept sci-fi musical iteration, based on a story.

From "Atrophy" by Maximillian Todd:

Dreaming, Bob experienced what may have been his first nightmare. He and Geena were traveling in the Shift, taking the electronic approximation of an exotic vacation. And the simulations were as real as anyone could tell, or so the advertisements
A concept sci-fi musical iteration, based on a story.

From "Atrophy" by Maximillian Todd:

Dreaming, Bob experienced what may have been his first nightmare. He and Geena were traveling in the Shift, taking the electronic approximation of an exotic vacation. And the simulations were as real as anyone could tell, or so the advertisements proclaimed. Talking with Geena with his eyes closed, Bob lay on the warm beach sand, listening to the surf and other beachgoers more than his wife. Then, she brought his attention back, "Bob, are you listening?"
"Oh, yes, I--" and he opened his eyes and saw who was beside him on the beach towel. The British secret agent was close enough to touch Bob's nose to his, and he took the big cigar out of his mouth, exhaling the thick smoke.
"Trees?" the agent said. "Do you know how difficult it is to get them to come out right? The pixels keep resolving. Into little squares."
Bob automatically replied, "Yes, but it cannot be that difficult, can it?"
The man smiled, pointed down the shoreline where several black men were painting. Looking closely, Bob saw that they were using actual paint brushes, composing the skyline and clouds as if they were laying oil on a canvas. But they were not painting pictures, they were painting the landscape of his dream, of his imagination. They dipped into cans of small, flat squares, applying them to a wall that Bob could not see, like gamesters completing a puzzle.
"See? Those Browns know how; why bother to try?" the man pointed out.
One of the Browns skipped over to them and bared his teeth in a grin. "Would you like me to provide some shade for you?" he asked, and dipped into his can. Whipping his brush back and forth over Bob's head, a grey mass formed. And then started raining on him.
"Oh," the Brown said. "It comes with the territory. But maybe you would like something to eat?"
And then Bob realized that he had met this man before. It was Lorenzo.
"Or maybe I will just reorganize myself for you," Lorenzo suggested. "Killing is such an intangible act."
And then Bob woke up, breathing heavily. Looking over, he saw that he had not awaken Geena. He sighed after a moment, and walked over to the lavatory. Closing a light-dimmer so that he would not disturb his wife, he activated a light fixture. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to focus on himself in a mirror. Looking into them, he found them flat and lacking in detail. Upon closer examination, he thought he saw little boxes in his irises, like miniature dots on a television screen.
Shaking his head, Bob let out a quick breath. I'm really getting wrapped up in this, he thought. Visiness has got me very confused. And so he went back to bed, and slept late.
The sun was already above the window of his bedroom, and Geena was not in bed. Bob assumed that she was at her workstation. He stretched, yawned. A bird flew by the window, and caught his eye. Moving his glance toward the window, he saw not the natural blur of his room, but lines and perfect squares. Trying a quick turn of his head, he got the same effect. And then he knew what was going on.
"I know what you are doing," Bob told the air.
The air spoke from all around. "I see. Then, let us start with the first lesson."
And Bob's world shrunk into a little hole and faded away, and he was left once again in random memory.
Read more…
0:00/???
  1. 1
    At Arms Length 5:20
    0:00/5:20
  2. 2
    Leftovers 5:50
    0:00/5:50
  3. 3
    Delayed Reaction 4:50
    0:00/4:50
  4. 4
    Separated But I 6:58
    0:00/6:58
  5. 5
    Divine Null 6:45
    0:00/6:45
  6. 6
    Sordid History 6:16
    0:00/6:16
  7. 7
    Charred Wood 6:49
    0:00/6:49
  8. 8
    I Come Back 5:58
    0:00/5:58

Produced, arranged, composed and performed by Todd Guilmette. 

Assembled in Fruityloops. 
Engineered, Mixed and Sequenced in Acid, Sound Forge and Vegas. 

Mastered by Matt Azevedo at M-Works. 

All sounds on this record were sampled from original vinyl recordings. 

Thanks to everyone who supports the local scene and to you for spreading the vibe.

At Arms Length

Trap myself a little piece of darkness 
A thing to call my own 
It’s warm and furry on the inside 
The world so overblown 
Cover up in sheets of comfort 
Time passes irrespective 
The smoky glass backscatter 
Inner thoughts are reflective 

I’m not drowning 
I’m just where I should be 
I look at you astounding 
You’ll be fine without me 

Looking out at the crowds of people 
All the masses their eyes are watching 
The sound of my words is feeble 
All the masses of souls are touching 
Waiting on me to stumble 
All the masses their eyes are waiting 
Should I speak or should I mumble 
All the masses focus fading 

I can come out and speak my mind 
More logic for the void 
Discourse formatted for the unkempt 
More pitfalls to avoid 
Should I gamble on the lowbrow 
Prick my finger watch them laugh 
Impotent critics on the lookout 
Blame it on their better half 

Looking out at the crowds of people 
All the masses their eyes are watching 
The sound of my words is feeble 
All the masses of souls are touching 
Waiting on me to stumble 
All the masses their eyes are waiting 
Should I speak or should I mumble 
All the masses focus fading 
All the masses focus fading 
All the masses focus fading

Leftovers

Misfiring on all cylinders 
Empty clear-cut carcasses 
Caged subsidized consumers 
Civilization in traction 

Excess burdens evident 
They cry out for help 
Put them out of their misery 
It’s all there is left 

Abortions of intelligence 
Malfunctions of procreation 
Persons of lesser standard 
We must see them for what they are 

Remainders of long division 

Long strands of junk 
Vestigial lives 
Fortified barriers of steel 
Immersion is fostered 

Excess flesh is evident 
Cries of their doom 
Relieve them of mediocrity 
It’s all there is left 

Abortions of intelligence 
Malfunctions of procreation 
Persons of lesser standard 
We must see them for what they are 

Remainders of long division

Delayed Reaction

This is the ultimate red tide 
Crack a smile and open wide 
We thought we saw the signs 
But we never made it in time 

Cyclic redundancy in a wave of transparency 
A massive conspiracy to forecast chaos theory 
Milestones and metrics and falling barometrics 
Last efforts were hectic 
to cure super massive peptics 

Whole grains and ethanol world diet overhaul 
Indications are small cumulative effects overall 
Explanations were astute 
to explain disappearing fruit 
Less we will pollute but the point is now moot 

Destructive to our own predictions overblown 
By the time we picked up the phone 
now we only exist alone 
Everything else we will forget 
just us and our pets 
We'll see the obvious future effects 
but I wouldn't lay any bets 

We look at paintings and pop pills 
Lament our younger days' thrills 
We knew we could cure all ills 
with 100 percent kills 
I'll come to the party late if that is to be our fate 
Looking at my empty plate 
wondering what I just ate 

Be wary of the things that thrill you 
Because the sea will kill you

Separated But I

I’ve met all my friends but I 
Haven’t exactly met them and I 
Haven’t exactly seen them and I 
Haven’t exactly shaken their hands 

I’ve met my wife but I 
Haven’t exactly met her and I 
Haven’t exactly seen her naked but I 
I made my deposit 

Separated by distance and 
Separated by time and 
Separated by shielding and 
I am separated 

I’ve met all the guys at work but I 
Haven’t exactly met them and I 
Haven’t exactly worked with them but 
We have lots of meetings 

I’ve met all my kids but I 
Haven’t exactly met them and I 
Haven’t exactly touched them but I 
I think I remember their names 

Separated but I 
Separated but I 
Separated but I 
I am separated

Divine Null

Code coming out of the temple 

Blessed be my subroutine 
Gotta keep the best foot clean 
Brush up all my fast food socks 
Sometimes I stay home a lot 

I’m a mean wizard typing boy 
Dodge the best with my shining ploy 
Feed the Feds with your sorry hind 
My influences are double-blind 

Grasping sets with hardcore straws 
Circumvent inconvenient laws 
As the brightly-colored data shows 
The best seekers follow their nose 

Dispatch the timely vid 
Mighty corporations brought 
down by kids 
Born with cybernetic heads 
Anointed machine code – street cred 

Generating random strings 
Talk about unrelated things 
Lightning strikes the honeypot 
Weak lines break down a lot 

Publish all my best surprise 
Brings unexpected demise 
Monkey suits fall from broken glass 
Futures end blindingly fast 

Oh ye have too much faith 
Pressure system readings great 
I will change the path of time 
A mark will be made and it is mine 

World storage knowledge breach 
No history left to teach 
Archives all burned to the ground 
Nothing but my data around

Sordid History

The purple robes come with swords gleaming 
stabbing at the night 
And the dark skin random violence turns to 
recognizable Surgery grafting political power 
on bare inner muscle Cover it up excise the 
gluttony spare no expense 

Bring back the ruling class time for engineered 
controls Social temperament shattered purpose 
beyond reproach Trademark clothes dark purple 
hoods slip through open windows 
Crimes of passion crimes of terrible motivation 

Rightful citizens beliefs sown fabric of certainty 
Sacrifice those not fit dispose recycle refit redesign 
Cities in pieces ruins fires deliberate acts of mayhem 
They will retake the world in the name of god. 

Thin metal blades impacting hardwood 
survey the city streets Looking for one more 
death blow vanished anonymous endings 
Staring at the night through black blinds 
watching the city move 
A cool reflective gaze government officials posture 

Dispensing comforting words tar colored 
shadows between the lines 
Union of Fact and Influence waits 
coded documents sent 
More assassins of policy set forth 
radical waves of dissent 
Unmoving masses of morality 
threatening status quo 

Let us address reluctant cowards percentage 
Undecided no remaining room for indecision 
Primal sneer of vicious power no warmth no love 
Unrelenting seizing control lighting up the dark 

Dominion sound bytes prepared alliances building 
Terror forming behind bulletproof windows 
armed defenses Contrived power decisions 
a mean sick playground joke 
Rushing in among miles of cable 
Thousands of electric eyes 

Nothing prepared nothing rehearsed 
Response is certain 
No margin for mistakes no time 
to placate the press 
Static and a jumble of noise now the 
image is clear 
Undesirables making decisions 
situation unforgivable

Charred Wood

(Trash it broke it write it off) 

I’d like an Italian dinner later 
And a light lunch 
Something with green olives 
Dust my boots 
I saw a bit of dirt on the top shelf 
Not tall enough, too bad 

What was that 
No talking under your breath 
You know your language is illegal 
Be on time next time 
There’s no excuse for that 
Days off come to those who work hard 

One of mine died the other day 
Seems my labor was too hard for the heat 
Well it’ll only get hotter 
Yes, I’ll get another 
I need to remember to claim him on my taxes 
I’ll get a couple bucks back 

Browns come look 
You are to look me in the face when I insult you 
Look me in the eyes 
I’ll get your little boy to replace you 
He can do that better 
How’s it work with a gun to your head? 

What do you mean, you won’t do it? 
Striking is illegal for your kind 
You’re conspiring against us 
We’ll set off your chips, 
You’ll all die in pain 
Figure it out for myself? 
You know I don’t know how 

Come back now! 
You don’t walk away from me! 
Look me in the eyes! 
How’s it work with a GUN TO YOUR HEAD?

I Come Back

  • Log out