***for the entire month of June 2020 all proceeds will be donated to Black Trans Advocacy Coalition (blacktrans.org)****
“Hedva sends a transmission direct from Planet Fuck and picks up every cosmic ghost along the way.”
—Henry Hoke, author of Genevieves and The Book of Endless Sleepovers
This is music for those who feel best in caves. Or in a galaxy of bits and pieces. Who unbreak by way of broken things. A living room full of mourners. A muggy bedroom full of half-read books with half-watched YouTube philosophy videos playing in the background. The Voyager Golden Records were failed invocations of what. A field trip to a scrapheap. A fever dream from when you were a kid that you’d do well to remember.
I took a decade-long hiatus from playing and listening to music, and when that was over, I made this. It’s a constellation of samples, ranging from quotes from Simone Weil to field recordings of a nine-year-old explaining the universe, the moon landing, and James Joyce. The samples orbit my own voice and the broken piano in my aunt’s living room, or I orbit them.
The word “libration” refers to “the wagging of the Moon perceived by Earth-bound observers caused by changes in their perspective.” The basaltic plains on the moon were formed by ancient volcanic eruptions, but early astronomers mistook them for seas, so called them “mare.”
The sun has not changed for more than four billion years. The sun is oblivion. What does it feel like to pass through that perfect heat into nothingness?
"I was reminded of Gregg Araki's Teenage Apocalypse Trilogy, disaffected, drug-induced epiphanies abound. I listened again and thought of Miss Kittin, industrial protofeminist ennui. Songs against capital. Graffiti anthems from the bedroom."
—Lara Mimosa Montes, author of Thresholes and The Somnambulist
“Radiance, long shadows, time travel, feedback-looping constellations, and then the bursts of wicked laughter, the super smarts, articulate rage, and the angry magnificence of being an artist.”
—Charlotte Cotton, author of Photography Is Magic
“In the language of flowers: love-lies-bleeding. But these sounds germinate on a remote orb just discovered, where the glow is ever after, amaranthine."
—Vivian Ia, poet and astrologer
“The old ghost is in the studio. The theme is oh yeah. He went, then I went, and she went. This is the she pulse.”
—Asher Hartman, theater maker and psychic
“oof i love that gemini north node capacity to just actually do it all on one ep like some kinda neighborly reminder that it doesn’t have to come together to make you come undone.”
—Constantina Zavitsanos, artist
released March 16, 2019
Made by Johanna Hedva at Casa de la Rosa Bruja, Los Angeles
Mixed by Peter Hernandez
Cover art by Mark Allen
An earlier, different version was released on 100 CD-Rs in 2014 under the name Johnny and the Sun. In 2016, two tracks were played on the moon at the Museum of Contemporary Art on the Moon under the name John Conch.
Hag blues, cave music, crone keening, mystical doom, intimate metal, moon hymns. Informed by Korean shamanist ritual and the P'ansori tradition, which demands rehearsal next to waterfalls, in order to ravage the vocal cords.
supported by 9 fans who also own “The Sun and the Moon”
they picked the cotton that saved the world. that picked cotton propelled u.s. economy; a unique capitalist setup. (though anglo saxon colonizers are not unique.) so many pop stars and hip hop billboard mainstays trumpet u.s. capitalism ad nauseam; or escapism & distraction.
"Don't Die," also powerful.
"i don't believe they lies. don't believe their truth, need they heads for proof" -- that's direct and powerful.
the violinist Saydah Ruz stands out here, i think. Jeremy Leaming