We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

no more funerals

by salvo

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $5 USD  or more

     

  • Cassette + Digital Album

    Made from an undying love for broken things. Dubbed on order.

    Includes unlimited streaming of no more funerals via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 5 days
    Purchasable with gift card

      $5 USD or more 

     

  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Includes unlimited streaming of no more funerals via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 5 days
    Purchasable with gift card

      $5 USD or more 

     

  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 13 Autocorrect releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Here, Together, Outside, It's Only, Ghost Levels, Vol. 2, well, Ghost Levels, Vol. 1, Well That Was Different, #holdontoyourbutts, and 5 more. , and , .

    Purchasable with gift card

      $30 USD or more (25% OFF)

     

1.
2.
it’s 4am and i’m sitting on the edge of the bed i had an argument debating whether i’m better of living or dead i said fuck the future i’m not even living now i drown in the sound of a mountain of debt that i’ll never undo (well goddammit) when you said it finally settled in four words and one hyphen then I barely blinked again you are self-absorbed you’re so bored with the world around you and you don’t even know what for i couldn’t ignore what was sitting in front of my face. or could I? i seem to be good at ignoring the facts i’ve displaced i am a master of sadness degrees of happiness erased i’m never gonna face all the hate that I made in the world in the name of one last sin well goddammit there I go again turn the sentence self-reflexive self absorbed emotions thin take the blood and make the exit if i were feeding on the mind if i were feeding on kinetics but i am feeding on my heart and the darkness is anorexic there’s no more funerals said the joker to the uniform so what are you doing it for you’re staying up late at night wringing your hands with indecision living in prisons of meditation thinking a little more contemplation will keep all the people from learning the truth so cover it up speaking in second person it’s better than love better than learning the words to stop and think it’s better than opening up to say i am i am i am i am i am not i am i am i am i am i am not comfortable with myself comfortable with my body comfortable living in the shade of the ways that i take what i want not knowing how i lie to myself how i’ve lied to every lover how i hide from being uncovered beneath the snarky sheets of another misdirection when you said it finally settled in i’m afraid of being honest because honestly i’ve been i’m afraid of being honest because honestly i’ve sinned and I’m ashamed of myself not knowing where how to begin
3.
an interlude 00:19
4.
mr. monster 03:06
i am an animal two-headed mandibles ham-handed accents on two-bar mechanical canticles tangible evidence not understandable it's mathematical maybe collapsible lately dialectic debate me a discourse in hating all the instincts prefacing every action i'm taking lately so that i can come misunderstanding the animal's a shaking shadow of a man who thought he was infallible thought he wasn't human cuz he hated how it sounded but a beast is what’s left when they strip the human out of you (a beast is what’s left when they strip the human out of you) and that’s the parable apparently a lesson it’s not repairable transparent obsolescence that ineffable errant lack of questions aggressive inescapable unstable position this can’t be all that i am capable of i love the monster he’s the only part of me that is consistent as sure as i will breathe there’ll be the anger and the greed i’ve got a mantra out floating around in my head an example of things I wish I hadn’t said eat sleep fuck over friends well that’s the gist or at least as close as i can get see people think that i am always so helpful respectful don’t blink it’ll be gone with a rug pull just instinct i’m so regretful now that i’m awake to the hurt i made you feel with my actions irrational and lacking any decency dissatisfaction with frequent complacency a broken mirror whose refraction is the least of my worries I am a hurried old man my feet sit on the brink of a great ocean each emotion gathering locomotive energy simplicity in each effort each word a new color each sound a new brushstroke each song a new lover i love the monster he’s the only part of me that is consistent as sure as i will breathe there’ll be the anger and the greed i love the monster he’s the only part of me that feels it’s worth it just to breathe each day as useless as the last i’m done forgiving
5.
i don’t wanna be a little man a bad man who can never understand another’s feelings i don’t wanna be the cold sad sack with a graduate degree in emotional concealing i am the master of sadness and peeling back my own madness like a carcass for feeding irrational lying is pastime of conceited half-assed and inconsistent shielding oh god i can’t see past my own interests past my own weakness past my own needs past the empty distance of my insistence everything is fine just forget the past you witnessed i swear i’m better i swear i’ll never change the hurt that you always feel is a pattern we can take back to the beginning i swear i’ll double down i swear i’ll see that shrink this time around i don’t know anything no empathy i am the misery you breathe when you sleep into darkness — hold on hold on to the vacuum cleaner hold on to that old tv hold on to my mismatched socks and missing xbox controller number three let go of the the bitter memories you keep of me locked in your heart like a threepenny opera i am amoral and static even when I oughta be free i regret everything i said in youth and folly the way i led you on was entirely disheartening lying to myself to seduce a puce moment the days i fed you lies i put your trust into squalor i hoped to make it better to make it all change to make you feel safe and wanted every single day back to the beginning but i burnt it all down the hurt you feel is water that we drown in now i don’t know anything no empathy i am the misery you breathe when you sleep into darkness — hold on hold on
6.
let’s go down to the base of the ceiba tree everything is freeform hold my soul out to the branches let me keep my people from these torn tattered memories cycling frightening i cannot pass down through the roots I am misery i am the darkness where no light casts each life lesson a section of my psyche entirely black the crow’s siren yelling might be another undercover hell dragging me back to yggdrasil my impossible pattern torn tattered memories cycling frightening i cannot pass up through the leaves my breathing stopped but i am holding on
7.
gram dot wav 03:32
i am whispering a scream no adderall no dreams to have or hold it's all scattered all blistering festered wound from the attic crawlspace where we were kissing steam with our fingertips, felt lonelier than usual felt myself slip into the corner of the user shell bash script hackintosh flipped used you all up til you lost your shit not equipped for this it was dark through the window dark through the men's soles who sold you innuendo i could see it through the screen the used car salesman holding pockets in though the dents end low so i'm looking at the window with cracked glass panes the last mud stains from the long summer rains splashed up the details always rearranged but it always end the same—a reference a reference x3 the referent of a living signifier of our death a reference defective no context no contest is honest unless it's reflective trans-fucking-parent apparently isn't enough because i'm presently repairing all of my connections the bitter kids dream in a wallflowers scream i am lost in between the corrections or at least I am floundering a scruffy headed scoundrel nerf herding complexion my sequence is arrested but the progress is astounding i can take this, it's just a downer it's just a copy of a copy of a painting of a fountain that was taken by a man who saw the meaning in the shoddy run down half broken trash aesthetic it was a ready made about a window it was a ready made about a window it was a ready made
8.
ţ̵̢̢̨̛͈̭̳͎̯̹͕̬͉̲̟̲͕̄̈́̌̓̈͌̔̋̔̀̈́̓̄͝͠͝h̵̢̛̺̜̙̼͍̗͉̻̺͖͇̲̹̬͉̽̌̔̍̈̈́̉̽̎̈́̓̋̐́̚̚̕͜ĩ̴̢̛̯̹̤̜̩̣͔̯̜̟͕̟̟͕̖̘̻̍̊̿̎̽̑̓̿̑̈̈́͐̕s̶̢̧̧̮̬̰͓͍̱̠̺̲͙̹̪̮͓͐̀͆̌̊͋̉͊͗̈̓̽̉͘͝͝ ̴͍̝̣̟̣͖͖̹̯̺̣̣̺̺̋͊̂̋̔͆̈́́͂̂̍̔̃̀̓̑̕͜͜͝i̷̧̢͉̖̭̥̲͓͚̘̜̝͓̺̤̘̟̹͊̓̌̀̔͌̇̀̋̃̐͊̍̂͗̑̓ș̷̡̮̩͔̺̗͖͈̬̘͖̝̖̱̦̄͌̊̀̋̑̿͐̀̑̒̑̕̚͜͝͠ ̷̢̘̟̠̰̙̘̜̜̩͕͔͇̺͆̆̂̊̄̆͑͐̄̂̔͌͛̿͘̚̕͜͜ͅm̸̨̛̥̣̼̮̹͎͉͇͎͍̤͓͖͎̤̊́̏̊̀͆͛̆̾͗̚̕͝͠͝͠y̸̧̧̧̛͚̭͔̫̜͙̦͓̭̭̩̯̬͊̎̉͋̏̍̓̊͑͊̋͗̏̒̏̚ͅ ̴̡̖̜̘͙̘̗̣̰̮̦͙̣̝͓̭͋̆͋̔̀̏̔̓̐̓̈́͌̊̈́̀̕͠b̶̧̭͎̱̣̘̘̪̻͙̘̹̖̮̖̥͚͎̊̅̿̌̈̈́̂͊̅̓̑͆̅̆̃͌̚ǫ̶͓͔͖̜͇̩͖̪̞͙͈̥̰̣̲͓̯͂̒͑̋͋́́̀͌̄͑̔͐͐͘͝͝d̷̡̨̛̖̟͕͍̤̖͎͔̘͔͓͔͎̬̠̀̄̽͐̄̃̅̓̄̐̔͐̄̚̕͠͠ẏ̴̧̛̰̜̻̠̺͇̳̞͖̣͎͉̩̼̰̳̋̍͆͌̀̈́̀́̈́͒̐̇̕͠͝ ̶̨̯͉͇̦͇͔͎̮̥̭̫̻̪̪͈̏̽̔̉̈̇̑̍̓̀̈͗͗̀̔̌̕e̸̡̢̧̛͉̺̞̝̫̙̜̠̝͉̭̦̎͊̆͑͛͋̔͆̎͊̎̎̚͘͝͠͝ͅͅṃ̴̡̧̧͉̝͔̱̲̝͙̯͔̜͇͉͑̌̊̆͐̊̾̀͒̎̐̆̉̆̈́̍́͘͜b̵̧̛͓̬̦̝̳͖̺̘̖̬̦̣̜͚͍̓̈́̃͂̔̿̽͆̂̌̏̔̋̕͝ơ̵̢͚̙͇͙͔͉̺͓̫̝̮͍̖͕̪̳͓͐̊͋̈́̈̀̐̂͆̒̈́͊̈̊̕̚ḑ̶͖̰̜͍̗̱̥̜̹̟͙̘̤̗̼́͊͋̏͌͌̉͐̈́̉̄́̀̓̉͝y̸̧̨̛͕̦̰̮̗͕̞̼̼̙̝̩͈̥̦̹̓̇̐̏̽́́̉̋̈͋̅́̄̂͘į̶̨̨̣̦̯̰͕̱̺͖̫̝͚͓̩̟̊͌͗̒̄̿̈̎̃̈́̂̈̈́̔͝͝ņ̷̹͇̦̼̯̠̟͚̜͈̯͖̮͖̅̿͌͗̒̎͌̆̿̒̒̾̿́͑͘̚͜͝ͅg̷̡̡̜̗̺̰͚̝̣̲̠̖͎̻͓̗͖̓̄̌͛̄̄͒͊̊̉̎̕̚͘̕͝͝ͅ ̸̢̛̛̼̰̞̥̫̦̳̖̝͖͕̠͇͂̂́̄̽͗̀̿̎͆̂́̐̀̕͜ͅͅã̸̧̫̪̭͉̫͚̱̻̝̣̫̰̝̞̰̭͚̄̓͊̐͐̓͐̐̂̏͋̋̍̕̕̕͠b̴̧̰̭̻̪̯̩͔̳͚̜͖̠͈̺̼̙̟͑̽̋̓̈́̌̊͒̒̈́̔̽͛̔́͂͌s̵̡̛̛̯̖͍̲͚̗̯͕͈̟̞̭̬͕̩̔̓̇̃̉̌̐̉̄̍͛̍̏̕͘͘͜e̸̡̞̲̖̱̳̰̩͍͓̟̭̺̤͙͆̍͋͊̑̑̓̀̅͌̾̆̂̄̾͘͠͝ͅͅn̶̨̙͖̥͈̝̬̘̣͉̺͕̯͕̣̹̥̽̈́̐̋̔́̈́͑̑̿͘̕̚̕͝͝č̴̡̡̜̜̖͙̜̦̩̼̱͈̺̻͖̃͗̄̀̏̿͗̎̒̓͐́͘͝͝ͅe̶̢̨̧̛̥̳̗̜͇̩̝̠̜̣̦͖̹̻̻̋́̂͗̏̂̄̀̂̐̀͗͐͊̇̕͠ ᴛ̶̷̲̅ʜ̶̷̲̅ʀ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ᴜ̶̷̲̅ɢ̶̷̲̅ʜ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ʟ̶̷̲̅ᴀ̶̷̲̅ᴄ̶̷̲̅ᴋ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ғ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ᴀ̶̷̲̅ᴄ̶̷̲̅ᴛ̶̷̲̅ɪ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ɴ̶̷̲̅ ᴛ̶̷̲̅ʜ̶̷̲̅ʀ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ᴜ̶̷̲̅ɢ̶̷̲̅ʜ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ʟ̶̷̲̅ᴀ̶̷̲̅ᴄ̶̷̲̅ᴋ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ғ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ᴀ̶̷̲̅ᴄ̶̷̲̅ᴛ̶̷̲̅ɪ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ɴ̶̷̲̅ ᴛ̶̷̲̅ʜ̶̷̲̅ʀ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ᴜ̶̷̲̅ɢ̶̷̲̅ʜ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ʟ̶̷̲̅ᴀ̶̷̲̅ᴄ̶̷̲̅ᴋ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ғ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ᴀ̶̷̲̅ᴄ̶̷̲̅ᴛ̶̷̲̅ɪ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ɴ̶̷̲̅ ᴛ̶̷̲̅ʜ̶̷̲̅ʀ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ᴜ̶̷̲̅ɢ̶̷̲̅ʜ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ʟ̶̷̲̅ᴀ̶̷̲̅ᴄ̶̷̲̅ᴋ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ғ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ᴀ̶̷̲̅ᴄ̶̷̲̅ᴛ̶̷̲̅ɪ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ɴ̶̷̲̅
9.
everything i ever ate was another beast that a person could create with a better set of teeth agency urgent no emergent behaviors caught replacing what’s beneath everything i’d ever take another trap lasting a little little bit longer a little stronger take another good look at the universe molecules interspersed with the transmutated dirt STOP this is my body embodying absence through lack of action happenstance facts create microscopic factions fracturing my community the last man standing has impunity over attraction who can actually happen off beat off book my heart is spinning a child’s drawing on a spirograph living inconsistent with the venom i’ve been spitting each sentence slows me down until i’m not even living (you are what you eat) eat and be eaten drink and be drunk sleep when defeated the void of our lust lover’s impedance embedded in drugs the vacuum releases us now we are done
10.
my body is a dying machine . i. am. a. void.
11.
how am i not myself is the question that i've been dealt in my transmedia hell telling the story is a cell that I just can't help but want to circumnavigate the bad news bears or the talking heads who wear skulls for stares but i'm missing one gender pronoun who cares what i wear when the money's in the baggage claim, no drugs that's the same no loss packing tape hold off rabbit says "no doc" no sir i won't hold that door i won't take that score i won't be your chore i won't keep another subtle misdirection undiscovered rather huddle under fires until i die alone die alone die alone die alone die alone dial lonely hearts club how am i not myself asked the farmer to the dell asked the pharmacy to tell everything to the doctor's I can see so swell it's sweltering hot where I'm not in your arms feel a little chill when i run to cop an excuse now i'm calmed so the hand asked the mouth what about the promises were you honest then will you honestly hold back from the traps that nose did spite will you make the matter right in the eyes of a friend or can you lie down can you admit that you were wrong can you let the long grudge go or will you die alone screaming how am i not myself
12.
no hay banda 04:16
this is the death that i've always wanted (slow days slow days) this is the death that i've always wanted (slow days no haze) this is the race that it'll always be (no raise, slow days) this is the death that i've always wanted (slow days slow days) this is the last time that I am calling in on the slow days no way, well gentlemen here it is, slow race, no haze on the screen i can see the chase is just as sick as it has been everything that i am doing now is just be another middleman a sick dog who's just mean this is the death that i've always wanted (slow days slow days) i am not an artist i'm an imaginary construct a letter on the wind well heavy feather falls again it always falls out of context cuz i was never honest when i tried to rise above and its a shame this is the death i've always wanted (no raise, slow days) never let go never wake up never wake up never let go never wake up i'm a ghost, post-mortem, the portrait of an artist of a man who spent his only youth in parting with the problems let it go hold tight don't ever part with the flow it's the ocean noise i promised I promise I promise it'll be there when you wake up tomorrow (slow days) this is the death that I wanted (no raise) so here i sway hanging on the rafters always coming last in the slow race and now i look about the window, a habit of untold difficult reasoning better the soul be deafening better the whole thing drop stop come into focus i'm honing in on the threshold's locus i am the hopeless last act of the evening playing these songs to an empty old room never let go never wake up never wake up never let go never wake up this is the death that i've always wanted (slow days slow days) this is the death that i've always wanted (slow days no haze) this is the race that it'll always be (no raise, slow days) this is the death that i've always wanted (slow days slow days)
13.
i am sitting in the desert of the real (hold it down) just the simulacrumb left nothing to feel (hold it down) i am sitting on the map of the world (hold it down) i am sifting through the ashes of my meal (hold it down) it is beating but it is cold and rotten it is self-defeating hoping to soon be forgotten it is lonely but i’m hungry and i’m running out of options desperate last pleadings are adopted unwittingly drifting all alone I am naked and bestial there is a man standing over me his face cut with deep creases criticizing my last meal he says is it any good i said it’s bitter but I like it because it is bitter but i like it because it is mine IT IS MY HEART how do you know that your life’s unhealthy IT IS MY HEART how do you know you’re not helping IT IS MY HEART try to defy the living constructs but home is not an object it’s a concept you developed it is my heart that is disconnected beating in simulation i have emulated lessons but my core is still complacent i am reading into situations with certainty that pain brings leaving me to escape to the place where objects shape reality there is no known finality there’s nowhere where left to lie my only hope has been denial so there is nothing left to try it is over the last funeral has arrived it’s a sign no it’s a symbol it’s a semiotic bitterness but I like it because it is bitter but i like it because it is mine but i like it because it is my heart

about

"Decker clearly falls in the lineage of adventurous dual producer/MCs like El-P, although his relentlessly self-aware and self-reflective songs and unusual production choices make him distinct from even those types of musicians. There are, for sure, definitive beats here and an awareness of traditional hip-hop, but Decker doesn't punch them up in the mix in the norm, but instead allows them to simmer along with the other elements with the other elements of his rough, but not overly aggressive, sonic collages.

While Chris Johnson and Moses Andrews III both receive extensive music credits as full-flung members of salvo, the designed-for-headphones approach and Decker's lyrical emphasis on internal monologue makes it difficult to imagine as anything more than a painfully honest, yet smart, take on self-awareness that inverses the typical relationship of the MC with their audience" — Kyle Peterson, Jasper Magazine

Never at a loss for words, Decker contends bravely with all aspects of his reality — whether they be cute kittens or dangerous fireworks. — Eric Tullis, Columbia Free Times

credits

released August 5, 2014

Cecil Decker: vocals, samples, programming, bass
Chris Johnson: noise, guitar, synth, voice
Moses Andrews III: bass, piano, voice

Mixed and mastered at Wentworth Studios

license

tags

about

Autocorrect Columbia, South Carolina

Autocorrect is a full body listening experience. The sounds therein lead to spontaneous goose flesh, getting woke all up, and contemplating the bliss inherent in suffering.

contact / help

Contact Autocorrect

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Report this album or account