no more funerals

by salvo

/
  • Streaming + Download

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

      $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

      $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

      $5 USD or more 

     

  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 8 Autocorrect releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of #holdontoyourbutts, forget the old ones, Pokéball, as it is, Save Less, Spend More, Industrial Home Ownership (Salvo mix), no more funerals, and i Am america sand so an yeti. , and , .

      $9.75 USD or more (25% OFF)

     

1.
2.
3.
00:19
4.
03:06
5.
6.
7.
03:32
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
04:16
13.

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

tags

license

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

Track Name: a calm yet unsettling moment of reflection
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
Track Name: mr. monster
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
Track Name: self-exasperation
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
Track Name: difference&&repetition
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
Track Name: gram dot wav
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
Track Name: void (mantra 1)
ţ̵̢̢̨̛͈̭̳͎̯̹͕̬͉̲̟̲͕̄̈́̌̓̈͌̔̋̔̀̈́̓̄͝͠͝h̵̢̛̺̜̙̼͍̗͉̻̺͖͇̲̹̬͉̽̌̔̍̈̈́̉̽̎̈́̓̋̐́̚̚̕͜ĩ̴̢̛̯̹̤̜̩̣͔̯̜̟͕̟̟͕̖̘̻̍̊̿̎̽̑̓̿̑̈̈́͐̕s̶̢̧̧̮̬̰͓͍̱̠̺̲͙̹̪̮͓͐̀͆̌̊͋̉͊͗̈̓̽̉͘͝͝ ̴͍̝̣̟̣͖͖̹̯̺̣̣̺̺̋͊̂̋̔͆̈́́͂̂̍̔̃̀̓̑̕͜͜͝i̷̧̢͉̖̭̥̲͓͚̘̜̝͓̺̤̘̟̹͊̓̌̀̔͌̇̀̋̃̐͊̍̂͗̑̓ș̷̡̮̩͔̺̗͖͈̬̘͖̝̖̱̦̄͌̊̀̋̑̿͐̀̑̒̑̕̚͜͝͠ ̷̢̘̟̠̰̙̘̜̜̩͕͔͇̺͆̆̂̊̄̆͑͐̄̂̔͌͛̿͘̚̕͜͜ͅm̸̨̛̥̣̼̮̹͎͉͇͎͍̤͓͖͎̤̊́̏̊̀͆͛̆̾͗̚̕͝͠͝͠y̸̧̧̧̛͚̭͔̫̜͙̦͓̭̭̩̯̬͊̎̉͋̏̍̓̊͑͊̋͗̏̒̏̚ͅ ̴̡̖̜̘͙̘̗̣̰̮̦͙̣̝͓̭͋̆͋̔̀̏̔̓̐̓̈́͌̊̈́̀̕͠b̶̧̭͎̱̣̘̘̪̻͙̘̹̖̮̖̥͚͎̊̅̿̌̈̈́̂͊̅̓̑͆̅̆̃͌̚ǫ̶͓͔͖̜͇̩͖̪̞͙͈̥̰̣̲͓̯͂̒͑̋͋́́̀͌̄͑̔͐͐͘͝͝d̷̡̨̛̖̟͕͍̤̖͎͔̘͔͓͔͎̬̠̀̄̽͐̄̃̅̓̄̐̔͐̄̚̕͠͠ẏ̴̧̛̰̜̻̠̺͇̳̞͖̣͎͉̩̼̰̳̋̍͆͌̀̈́̀́̈́͒̐̇̕͠͝ ̶̨̯͉͇̦͇͔͎̮̥̭̫̻̪̪͈̏̽̔̉̈̇̑̍̓̀̈͗͗̀̔̌̕e̸̡̢̧̛͉̺̞̝̫̙̜̠̝͉̭̦̎͊̆͑͛͋̔͆̎͊̎̎̚͘͝͠͝ͅͅṃ̴̡̧̧͉̝͔̱̲̝͙̯͔̜͇͉͑̌̊̆͐̊̾̀͒̎̐̆̉̆̈́̍́͘͜b̵̧̛͓̬̦̝̳͖̺̘̖̬̦̣̜͚͍̓̈́̃͂̔̿̽͆̂̌̏̔̋̕͝ơ̵̢͚̙͇͙͔͉̺͓̫̝̮͍̖͕̪̳͓͐̊͋̈́̈̀̐̂͆̒̈́͊̈̊̕̚ḑ̶͖̰̜͍̗̱̥̜̹̟͙̘̤̗̼́͊͋̏͌͌̉͐̈́̉̄́̀̓̉͝y̸̧̨̛͕̦̰̮̗͕̞̼̼̙̝̩͈̥̦̹̓̇̐̏̽́́̉̋̈͋̅́̄̂͘į̶̨̨̣̦̯̰͕̱̺͖̫̝͚͓̩̟̊͌͗̒̄̿̈̎̃̈́̂̈̈́̔͝͝ņ̷̹͇̦̼̯̠̟͚̜͈̯͖̮͖̅̿͌͗̒̎͌̆̿̒̒̾̿́͑͘̚͜͝ͅg̷̡̡̜̗̺̰͚̝̣̲̠̖͎̻͓̗͖̓̄̌͛̄̄͒͊̊̉̎̕̚͘̕͝͝ͅ ̸̢̛̛̼̰̞̥̫̦̳̖̝͖͕̠͇͂̂́̄̽͗̀̿̎͆̂́̐̀̕͜ͅͅã̸̧̫̪̭͉̫͚̱̻̝̣̫̰̝̞̰̭͚̄̓͊̐͐̓͐̐̂̏͋̋̍̕̕̕͠b̴̧̰̭̻̪̯̩͔̳͚̜͖̠͈̺̼̙̟͑̽̋̓̈́̌̊͒̒̈́̔̽͛̔́͂͌s̵̡̛̛̯̖͍̲͚̗̯͕͈̟̞̭̬͕̩̔̓̇̃̉̌̐̉̄̍͛̍̏̕͘͘͜e̸̡̞̲̖̱̳̰̩͍͓̟̭̺̤͙͆̍͋͊̑̑̓̀̅͌̾̆̂̄̾͘͠͝ͅͅn̶̨̙͖̥͈̝̬̘̣͉̺͕̯͕̣̹̥̽̈́̐̋̔́̈́͑̑̿͘̕̚̕͝͝č̴̡̡̜̜̖͙̜̦̩̼̱͈̺̻͖̃͗̄̀̏̿͗̎̒̓͐́͘͝͝ͅe̶̢̨̧̛̥̳̗̜͇̩̝̠̜̣̦͖̹̻̻̋́̂͗̏̂̄̀̂̐̀͗͐͊̇̕͠

ᴛ̶̷̲̅ʜ̶̷̲̅ʀ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ᴜ̶̷̲̅ɢ̶̷̲̅ʜ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ʟ̶̷̲̅ᴀ̶̷̲̅ᴄ̶̷̲̅ᴋ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ғ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ᴀ̶̷̲̅ᴄ̶̷̲̅ᴛ̶̷̲̅ɪ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ɴ̶̷̲̅
ᴛ̶̷̲̅ʜ̶̷̲̅ʀ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ᴜ̶̷̲̅ɢ̶̷̲̅ʜ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ʟ̶̷̲̅ᴀ̶̷̲̅ᴄ̶̷̲̅ᴋ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ғ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ᴀ̶̷̲̅ᴄ̶̷̲̅ᴛ̶̷̲̅ɪ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ɴ̶̷̲̅
ᴛ̶̷̲̅ʜ̶̷̲̅ʀ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ᴜ̶̷̲̅ɢ̶̷̲̅ʜ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ʟ̶̷̲̅ᴀ̶̷̲̅ᴄ̶̷̲̅ᴋ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ғ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ᴀ̶̷̲̅ᴄ̶̷̲̅ᴛ̶̷̲̅ɪ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ɴ̶̷̲̅
ᴛ̶̷̲̅ʜ̶̷̲̅ʀ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ᴜ̶̷̲̅ɢ̶̷̲̅ʜ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ʟ̶̷̲̅ᴀ̶̷̲̅ᴄ̶̷̲̅ᴋ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ғ̶̷̲̅ ̶̷̲̅ᴀ̶̷̲̅ᴄ̶̷̲̅ᴛ̶̷̲̅ɪ̶̷̲̅ᴏ̶̷̲̅ɴ̶̷̲̅
Track Name: vs (mantra 2)
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
Track Name: vacuum (mantra 3)
my body
is
a
dying
machine
.
i.
am.
a.
void.
Track Name: myself in demo
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
Track Name: no hay banda
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)
Track Name: home (mantra 4)
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