Quietus Volume One

by Quietus

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“Quietus Volume One LP. This record blew me away on first listen, last night. It's cheap to compare it to shitt you philistines already like, but... well, that first clause speaks for itself, dunnit? This blends well with some of my favorite contempo shitt: Pink Reason, The Terminals / Renderers, Modra. And obliquely, and in a way the auteurs would probably not recognize, with certain aspects of Talk Talk. A six-song LP, beautifully recorded band performances, with the songs seemingly created "in the mix," xtremely eerie and strange lead guitar lines drifting all over it, and very, very excellent vocals...This is music of extremely high quality, very individual in its approach. Undeservedly and inexplicably obscure. Still available. Stunning. Etc.”


released March 10, 2012

Music and lyrics by Geoffrey Bankowski
All songs arranged and performed by:
Geoffrey Bankowski: guitar, vocals
Joseph Harms: lead guitar
Dorian Foerg: drums, vocals
Christopher Santacroce: cello

Joseph Wessling: bass on 2, 3
Eric Cecil: bass on 1, 4, 5, & 6
Nathanael Maynard: guitar
Randy Frey: keys

Produced by Geoffrey Bankowski
Mixed by Geoffrey Bankowski, Joe Caravalho, and Gabe MG
at Engine Room Audio, New York, NY

Cover: Photo by Aaron Black; Design by Geoffrey Bankowski and Aaron Black




Quietus New York

"There is honest-to-god mystery in this and that's awfully rare these days."
-Whet Bull
Terminal Boredom

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Track Name: Stop
Stop hiding your scars, dear, and I'll stop hating my crooked teeth.
Stop forgetting how smart you are and I'll stop forgetting to eat.
Stop the way that we crawl, waiting for them to call, babe fuck them all.

Stop flying the body into the glass, needing the flask, humping the past.
I'll stop failing to trust, denying the lust, feeding on rust.
Stop the snow in our hearts, the way that it starts, the falling apart.

Let's stop being us, but not become them.

Stop loving the mean, wanting so bad to be seen, buying the dream.
I'll stop most of the doubt, refusing to shout, stop hiding your heels when you go out.
Stop breathing exhaust, making a fetish of loss, heeding the boss.
Stop refusing to digress, refusing to undress, refusing the mess.
Stop leaving.

Let's stop being us, but not become them.

Stop avoiding the sweet, hiding beneath, a boyish grief.
Track Name: No Way Is Safe
Have you got your black wings, baby?
Have you got a burned-out church in mind?
It's taken years to learn to say maybe.
Take the light apart and be kind.

Can you trust enough to unpack yet?
Can you get the fruit out of the rind?
Dress it up in bracelets and rings.
Take the light apart and be kind.
Track Name: Wings & Things
Someone put motion in a stone, called it victory.
Birds have air inside their bones, a little mystery.
Those nights when you’re alone, it’s such a bitch to be
on the lawn with her there, she’s hovering.

And your bra matches the stars.
And the light has traveled so far.
But tonight we drink whiskey from a jar,
forget who we are.

I asked her what she’d bring, she said wings.
I asked her what’s missing, she said everything.
I asked her what she’d bring, she said wings.
I asked her what’s waiting, she said everything.
Track Name: Serve The Queen
Al was five, and I was four.
Mama was all dressed up out the door.
The sitter’s name was Angeline.
She looked at the both of us and said
now you’re mine.

She said start with the dishes, boys,
get them nice and clear.
We pulled chairs to the sink
and reached for the steam.
When we were done we found her
stretched out long and lean.
She laughed and asked if we had ever
played Serve The Queen.
She said bring me my purse and a beer
and get on your knees.
She dug some pills from the bottom
and said boys take one of these.
She took two for herself, said
I’m gonna get me some sleep.
One of you rub my belly,
the other rub my feet.

Take one of these
and serve the queen.

Where’s my sister?
Track Name: Rainstorm
She’s got an empty birdcage
floating above her bed.
She doesn’t know she’s beautiful
until she hears it said.
She’s got a mouth like a rainstorm,
she doles it out in sips.
She’s got a river that’s forlorn
coursing through her hips.
She’s got a heart like a deep breath,
mine is drenched in wine.
She’s got a heart like a good stretch,
I drag mine behind.

She said that I could change my mind
if I try.

She understands the mud, the turtle shell,
why am I not well?