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1.
Now in the streets of our New Kîlauea we dream Lono and Laka will find their way here bid us “aloha” as we go on our way wearing cloaks of fine feather to brighten our day singing: ouaraurau, ouraraurau, ouaraurau raurauae wearing cloaks of fine feather to brighten our day singing: ouaraurau, ouraraurau, ouaraurau raurauae
2.
From: A Creation Fragment from Easter Island The angry sky beats its chest, calms when it lays its hand on the round belly of the horizon, births all the berries that sustain us on our paths through the low hills. The mother of wood is a quilt of drifting kelp who entangles her salt tendrils with a coconut shell and finds her belly fills with all the forests and trees of the world. The tattooed cheek of the stone cliff is pressed to the open thighs of the wet sea, brings into being all the edible small plants and roots of the island. The knots of roots above ground, the tangled nets and woven mats untouched by hands, snare the beautiful face and bright tongue of sunrise on the water to birth morning. The silver lizard who takes her lover, the feather-grass, to a soft bed of sand, soon gives birth to the gannet, who abandons her to find a nest among white clouds at dawn. The long tentacle of the anemone and the broken tail of a swift green fish lie together among sea-shells on the beach at noon to become parents of the crayfish tribe. The grass takes its pleasure with a wet pond to birth the bulrush; lies later with a pigeon, as the seagull flies from their night bed to wrap its wings around a full moon. For now the rain stands up in the ocean and comes towards us in long wet strides. For now the rain throws down its clear screens to veil all the beds of the island.
3.
Here in the mountains I invoke the shore where it sparkles in the far distance as I ask protection from the dog that barks at night. You live among the woven vines and bright leaves that shimmer on the hips of women as rain blooms and clouds stand over the sea. For you are Laka, who pins this open bud of red blossom to her earth-black hair as a night sky strikes the matches of its own stars.
4.
She sits in the cold glow of the great wave on her new TV, wears a satin dress, sips from a crystal glass: a single ice-cube strains a meniscus of sweet white wine, bends the horizon of her nearest sea. She turns to the light, holds her glass high as any tree on Mauna-loa might raise its fruit to toast the feathered cloak of a setting sun. Soft music plays, surf breaks on black lava-stones, air murmurs among the leaves of palms. In these past dawns she would swim through any shallow reef, whisper across the hollow slit of a pearl-pink shell, carry that breath so carefully between white surf and altar-stone not a drop would spill.
5.
So it seemed that months later we found half our songs had become half-Hawaiian but didn't sound wrong and we praised their Pele and they our Tam Lin singing: ouaraurau, ouraraurau, ouaraurau raurauae
6.
and if the Sorceress should touch the live screens of her cool glass hands to your feverish brow you will begin to see you will begin to see through the most unimaginably relaxing static haze inaccessible things beautiful and disturbing things things bathed in no light ever seen in nature you will see the last white leopard left alive in the world the last white leopard left alive in the world where she rolls like a kitten, over and over inside her mountain cave among dark blue shadows and thick red dust you will be lured by skin under liquid silk, learn to love the sight of skin on screens, expensive skin, skin whose cleansers and creams are all absorbed you will learn the allure of exclusive skin, alone and when the Sorceress draws her translucent sleeve across your face, hides her own distracted eyes then leans down to speak with you, alone leans in so close her breath is yours you will not see that her fingers are made for transmission, never notice that her finger-nails are ten transistors painted cherry-red you will only know her voice and breath you are adrift already you are lulled into the most reassuring state you will ever sleep, to dream with no trace of restlessness to dream of the last white leopard left alive in the world the last white leopard left alive in the world as she rolls like a kitten among the dark blue shadows, the last white leopard in her mountain cave, the last white leopard turning over and over through the most relaxing endless unconscious night you have ever spent in the breath of the Sorceress as she dissolves dissolves you
7.
The grass around these waters is fragrant. Now from sweet grass I'll weave an ankle-bracelet that binds this hour of pleasure to you. My fingers weave slowly, relish the touch of stalk on seed while I loop and fold each grass-blade into another grass to knot itself. This is how the soft breeze in this clearing tangled the long wild grasses and vines together, barely noticed beside the cool water. Like this breeze I'll weave white flowers with long grass-stalks, blend in those blossoms that must quickly pale against your skin. I'll slide this pink flower behind your ear now I've made an ankle-bracelet from sweet grass and bound this hour of pleasure to you.
8.
9.
Coral polyps build. Glass shrimp kick sand grains from the sea-floor. The shellfish makes his own shell. All stones are alive inside their hard coats. The male stone is bulbous, a fertile root. The female stone is cleft or smooth. From the sex of stones land comes. The small sea urchin is born, the smooth sea urchin, the long-spiked sea urchin, the ring-shaped sea urchin. The barnacle is born, his pink foot clasped like an anchor to a pearl oyster's shell. The kelp is set afloat. The bladder-wrack drifts like a net of plants on the waves. The sea algae that greens the hulls of boats takes its place in the waves with the lobster and the hermit crab, the limpet, the scallop and the giant dog-whelk. The razor-fish is born. The nautilus hovers in the open sea. The scallop sets forth in the water, the hermit crab seeks the first empty shell. Near the shore where humans await their call, sea-plants float in the wash of the blue waves. Traceries of root and weed strike positions in this new earth, extend land into salt foam. Stones end and the sea laps like a dog's tongue. Leaves strain against sea winds like patterned sails. The climbing vine, its red spike erect at the fruiting point, brings forth the first man with a water gourd. His feet, set firm on land, stand astride the cold rush of a crystal spring. Hard stones soften around him. Green plants expand over the earth. Water runs through his cupped hands, bathes thick tubers and lace-work roots with a fecund wet. For this night the sun darkens like the skin of a ripening fruit, brings the moon to shine like a wet stone in the heated darkness of its own shade. New land rises from slime and fire in the open sea. Islands churn in the water. The source of darkness is darkness. The source of this first night is a deep-ocean darkness that shapes new night. This first night is a black nest that gives birth, carries all things up from the star-flecked womb of the deep. The sea opens around these first shores as the sky opens above the new land. The volcano casts its red stones and arcs of fire between the stars as glass shrimp kick sand-grains from the sea floor. Every shellfish makes his own shell. All stones are alive inside their hard coats. The male stone is bulbous, a fertile root. The female stone is cleft or smooth. From the sex of stones more land comes.
10.
Soldiers tore down our temples and made us wear cloth they put us to working all the hours made by Gods but each day we worked singing our own temple songs singing: ouaraurau, ouraraurau, ouaraurau raurauae In our songs lie old memories of oak and pine wood where huts stood by the water carved with our Gods on some nights we go there and chant to the winds singing: ouaraurau, ouraraurau, ouaraurau raurauae
11.
Know life echoes in sound and wild projections far beyond this first incarnation. Any trace of root brings the whole plant back. Know all creatures instinctively fall asleep when night dissolves the setting sun like an aspirin dropped in dark water. Know the dandelion lifts its sun-face among concrete, wild clover and meadow-grass no matter how often its stem is cut. Know life echoes in sound and wild projections far beyond this first incarnation. Any trace of root brings the whole plant back. * everything is alive in the velocity of light everything is alive in the velocity of light but birds do not startle in their nests or lose their footing on telegraph wires everything is alive in the velocity of light birds ruffle and cleanse unfolded wings warm their speckled eggs in boughs everything is alive in the velocity of light while the sun's gently warming rays travel ninety-three million miles everything is alive in the velocity of light everything is alive in the velocity of light travel ninety-three million miles across our nearest star's heliocentric space everything is alive in the velocity of light to spark against hard stones on Earth & ignite lush fires in these wet fields everything is alive in the velocity of light everything is alive in the velocity of light
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about

The recordings featured on Exotica Suite remix and re-edit some of the texts from the book, Exotica Suite & Other Fictions (Shoestring Press, 2015), then perform these to music created by Paul Isherwood, best known for four acclaimed albums made with The Soundcarriers, most recently Entropicalia (Ghost Box, 2014). The recordings hopefully go beyond putting readings to background music and work instead to create free-standing tracks from the source materials - taking inspiration from Eden Ahbez, Yma Sumac, Link Wray, Sun Ra and an imaginary British-Polynesian folk tradition, among other things.

UPDATE: With the CD/book physical version of the release now sold out at source, we have decided to include a set of bonus tracks with the digital release. These (tracks 12 - 19) introduce the raw instrumental demos made in late 2014 and early 2015 from which the final tracks were developed. They are relatively lo-fi and vary a great deal in how far the finished tracks added to and deviated from these beginnings, but they are all, I think, of interest, as instrumentals and alternate versions of the final songs, and often have strengths that are entirely their own.

credits

released July 10, 2015

Featuring contributions from Adam Cann, Dorian Conway, Rebecca Lee, Arianne Churchman, Parisa Eliyon, Alex Crispin & Gregg Walsh.

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Paul Isherwood & Wayne Burrows Nottingham, UK

Paul Isherwood has released four LPs with The Soundcarriers: Harmonium & Celeste (Melodic), The Other World Of The Soundcarriers (Great Pop Supplement) and Entropicalia (Ghost Box).

Wayne Burrows' recent publications include The Holcombe Tarot (2014), Black Glass: New & Selected Poems and Exotica Suite & Other Fictions (Shoestring Press, 2015).
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