the empty subway cars; two poets without direction

from in a prayer by mourning dove

	/

DR-2X2 (2CS)
Cassette + Digital Album
handmade home-dubbed double cassette (C-67 & C-57)
red & silver blue glitter shells
each tape features unique inner artwork from the unknown sound collective gallery
edition of 50

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

Sold Out
Digital Track
Streaming + Download

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

Purchasable with gift card

$1 USD or more

You own this
Buy the Full Digital Album View the Full Digital Album
Drongo street team

Join now to receive all the new music Drongo Tapes releases, including 70 back-catalog items, delivered instantly to you via the Bandcamp app for iOS and Android. You’ll also get access to supporter-only exclusives. Learn more.

Join Now $3 USD/month or more

lyrics

It made sense in our world, there was no enemy this time, but we did not know there had never been any. Some of us would go on, elsewhere, but if only it was not after being gutted in this failed system, and placed between mask and mask and ventilator. I have never believed in apocalypse, and this was not it. The urban spaces emptied, Grand Central could echo without a sound. The rot of so long the rich and all those other plagues that were really reducible to slow change in policy blocked by the many interests improperly played off one another, such that capital and so forth was unchecked, the poor, poorer, you know the jist. We were primed for it but it was not inevitable. It did not come like a storm. To me it was some simple song as I walked with a new friend through these Brooklyn barren streets. But here I was with my love in an apartment neither of us paid rent for, in these times where it was easy to steal and squat. We lived in luxury, working on our computers for nonprofits, each gazing out at the neighborhood street, calling out to the abyss that was New York, the most human place now desolate. And I was glad of it, to trace the begin and end, but to know these times would call for the death of so many of the most vulnerable was of great guilt and sorrow to me, such that I passed through each crowd on the subway- though it had now slowed to just a trickle- without touching, staying feet apart from the next. I was most afraid that I was an asymptomatic carrier, in my youthful invulnerability, I might spread it to someone else. It was the only word on the street, and the virus itself would mean little except to those who fell, but for the rest of us, it would dismantle and rearrange the conditions of our society, for better or worse, to reconsider how exactly we had marginalized the other, and in the wake of this slow and mild catastrophe, a first warning when the climate and other things bespoke of all the great troubles to come, we could mobilize the many strengths of this now-suffering but always known to survive metropolis to shift paradigms of work hours and supply chains and wealth disparities and the rickety subway trains and discrimination and even our movements across land, after this unutterable pause, this lapse of the world, this momentarily unending gasp for air, as collectively, this city gone dark- as seen from that East River dock, the trembling gold lights that remained rocked slowly by the waves, made touch with the beyond.

credits

from in a prayer, released February 22, 2022

license

about

Drongo Tapes Seattle, Washington

independent cassette label. hazy, worn, empty. limited run handmade tapes

all tapes $4-7 with discount code 'slidingscale'

demos and contact:
drongotapes@gmail.com