#Labels and terms existing are very fun but sometimes it is quite alright to make changes or words for yourself.

[augujerdeer]

What is the difference between "host" and "main"?

“Host” has many different ways of defining them. The most common (that we use) is simply, “fronts the most or is the person(s) who deals with daily life.” It is a little boad, but we are happy with it. It may also be defined by others as “the person who is the default fronter”

Some add more “requirements” such “have a certain amount of power and influence across the system.” or “identifies most with the body” None of these are wrong nor are they required and permanent. System terms can be very flexible sometimes and can change or grow- this is most applicable to the more older and most basic terms (e.g. host, core, protector, etc.) from what we’ve seen.

What is for sure, though, is that you can have more than one host, and the host does not necessarily have to have been there since the birth of the body, for the lack of a better description. Hosts can be anyone that is new or old- introject or insourced. We have multiple. Hosts are also no better or worse than the rest of the system. They are not necessarily more important or any less. Everyone in the system is a team- or should be at least.

The term has started to lose its meaning (in our system) recently, not because it is useless, but because of personal reasons and experiences. It is hard to figure out indeed, “who is/are the host(s)” after accepting all the system members and allowing them to front, because in a way I can’t explain, knowing is based on feeling, when it comes to figuring it out. It’s hard to ask someone to be the host, the most you can do is ask they help around. For our system, it seems that assigning who gets the host role ks subconscious and lmost out of our control. Though, as Kris says (about our system) “who cares?” Haha. Again, we can sort of tell who our team of “hosts” are but we’ve instead started using “MFC” instead of “host” i wish I could explain to you some more, but this is off topic from your question.

“Main” is something we’ve heard from somewhere else- a tumblr post. I’ll leave the link there so I do not need to “copy and paste” its description. This term was or is used to describe Jamie- but we’ve sort of changed our meaning for it. For us, when we say Main, we mean something more similar to “core” (aka “original”) but not quite. Jamie was our old long-running host who is now retired. She is NOT a host anymore nor does she plan on wanting to return to it. We still acknowledge her though, and for the most part,the parents outspace are her parents- the brother is her brother (though we all do love him and call him “our brother” ocassionally) Looking back on the original description for “Main” it might not be applicable. She’s not our “defacto” leader and asking her for permission to do anything (not that it’s bad to ask your host(s) or other system members to discuss wants and needs is bad) was actually very unhealthy for us. To this day we do not have a good name for how we feel about Jamie other than slightly changing our meaning for both Main and Core.

Sorry I have not been helpful in answering this ask. It has been a long day. Apologies for being long-winded. I hope I’ve answered at keast one thing; and if you have more questions I will attempt to elaborate or explain.

[aliceslantern]

Beyond this Existence: New Life, short 15--Smoke

Recovery is a tedious, nonlinear process. Demyx, Ienzo, and the others living in Radiant Garden's castle have to learn to come to terms with their pasts and their memories, learn to grow, and begin to understand what, exactly, it means to be human. While there is unexpected joy in this, there is also unexpected sorrow. A series of oneshots set after Beyond this Existence.

Current short: “Smoke.”  One of Aerith's tests leaves Demyx with an unanticipated award.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

--

Demyx was tired of looking at leaves. His eyes burned, and there was a crick in his neck from being bent over the countertop for most of the morning. He was pretty sure he was going to permanently smell like anise seed. He stuffed the pills he'd made into their pouches and wiped his hands on a damp rag.

Aerith offered him a glass of lemonade. “I’m surprised you haven’t complained.”

He took it. The tart sweetness almost, but not quite, masked the taste of the herbs he’d been breathing. “My strategy now is to try and ignore it.”

“I was hoping you would.”

“Ignore it? Or complain?” He sat gingerly on the stool and felt his feet throb.

She appraised his handiwork. “A lot of our work has to do with endurance. I gave you too much to do, in a manner that was intentionally confusing, on purpose.”

He held back the urge to groan. “So this was a test?”

She smiled. Aerith had a mischievous side, one he was still getting used to. She sorted through the pills and packets he’d made. Anxiety only made the ache in his feet worse. After a long, long moment, she said, “Not bad.”

““Not bad” can also mean “not good.””

She brought her eyes to his. “You made no awful mistakes. The medicine would do its job. It’s the finer points that you seem to have trouble with. Like this migraine powder. There’s no oil or anything to mask the flavor. It’d work--but it’d taste very bitter, which is the last thing a person in that much pain wants.”

Demyx exhaled. “Right. That makes sense.”

She squeezed his shoulder. “It’s only been a few months. You’re bound to make some mistakes. This will all be second nature at some point.”

He stood and flinched when he took back his weight. He really needed to invest in some better shoes. “I want to be good at it now .” The only thing that had ever come effortlessly to him was music, and even that was hard won these days. He started to put away the excess herbs in her apothecary chest. Aerith’s handwriting was notoriously bad; reading the labels felt like something of a test too.

She touched his shoulder. “And I’m happy you’re so passionate. But don’t rush the process.”

He nodded and made himself smile. “Right.” He was just about to shutter the cabinet when one of the smaller drawers in the corner caught his eye. It wasn’t--no. He pulled it open and saw the buds neatly wrapped in cheesecloth, probably to cover the smell.

He didn’t need training to be a healer to recognize this plant.

“Is there a particular reason you just have a drawer full of weed?”

She raised an eyebrow. “It can be used as medicine, you know.”

“Yeah, I… know.” He shut the drawer.

“Did you want to take some? I don’t mind.”

“I don’t need it.”

“But do you want it?”

Demyx didn’t know how to read her sometimes. “I… don’t know.”

“So take it. Smoke it or not, I don’t care. Just give me a heads-up if you want the night off.”

“...Sure.” He held the drug, feeling like he was doing something wrong even though he’d easily carried far more potent painkillers. Embarrassed, he tucked it into his pocket. “Thanks. I think.”

She smirked. “We all need to cut loose every now and again.”

---

Demyx made dinner that night for Ienzo. His own cooking was never inspired, and it all seemed to come out bland no matter what he did to it. Ienzo’s food tasted better, but it wasn’t necessarily fair to always make him cook, especially now that they lived together.

He thought a lot about fairness, these days. He guessed it had something to do with getting continually trod on his whole life.

Before he could spiral along that path, he heard the door open. “Hey. How was your day?”

Ienzo set aside his glasses and phone before giving him a kiss. “Productive. I started my first draft.”

“Can I see it?”

“It’s not nearly ready.”

They took their meal at the small oak table. “You’ve got a funny look on your face,” Ienzo said. “Something happen today?”

“No, not really.” He stirred his rice aimlessly. It was a bit undercooked. His rice always came out that way, or else it was mush. He blamed the front stove burner; it was a bit too hot. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Have you ever done drugs?”

This seemed to amuse him, more than anything. “Why is it you ask?”

“It just hit me that I kind of have easy access to them.”

“Well, most of the substances you work with aren’t exactly for recreational purposes.”

“Mm. True. Except Aerith kind of gave me a bag of weed?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Yeah. Really.” Demyx took it out of his pocket and put it on the table. Ienzo poked it with the tip of his fork.

“I suppose she must use it as a painkiller,” he said.

“You can look at it, if you want.”

“I’m… fascinated, despite myself.” He cleared his throat. “I suppose that answers your question. What about you?”

“Huh?”

“Have you… indulged in such things?”

Demyx rubbed at the back of his neck. “A few times,” he admitted. “It was usually offered whenever Luxord had one of his poker nights.”

“I do wonder what happened to him. I hope he’s well.”

“He was fun to be around.” Demyx sighed. “If his Nobody was killed, he’s whole now.”

“I hope he’s as happy as we are.”

A moment passed. They contemplated the bag on the table.

“Should we do something with it?” Ienzo asked.

“Like smoke it? Would you want to?”

“I’m… curious. That is if you want to.”

“I think it would be fun to get high with you.”

“Exactly. Fun.” There was something analytical in his gaze, though.

“I just have to let Aerith know I’ll be out of commission. Then we can do whatever.” He felt a blush heat his face as he texted her. Though how was this worse than drinking? Not that he did that often anymore, either. All she sent in response was a thumbs-up emoji. With slightly trembling fingers he took the fragile papers out of the bag and tried to roll a joint. He’d never done this, only seen it done. Ienzo watched with interest. Demyx half expected him to start taking notes. “Let’s go over to the couch.”

Ienzo handed him the box of matches they usually used for candles. They sat, knee to knee, as if about to commit a crime.

“I’ll start it.” It took two tries to get it lit, and he coughed. Already he could tell this stuff was stronger than whatever sketchy stuff Luxord or Xigbar had purloined. He handed it off to Ienzo.

“How do I--”

“Just breathe, but not too deeply. And hold it for a few seconds.”

Ienzo did so. Demyx had to admit that seeing him do it was funny. He coughed as well.

For a few minutes they passed it back and forth, not saying much. Already his head was feeling light, watery.

“I’m not sure I feel anything,” Ienzo admitted. “Am I supposed to?”

“You might not.”

“It tastes… interesting.” He tapped some ash into an empty glass. “How odd, the things people will do for fun .”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“I’ve seen some interesting things. On missions and whatnot. But then there’s always this veil of impersonal...ness.” He trailed off, and touched a hand to his brow.

“You alright?”

“It stopped.”

“What?” A little wave of fear broke over him.

“The anxiety. It stopped.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s part of it too.”

Ienzo leaned back heavily. “How strange . I feel so…” He stumbled over his words. “Things feel more the same than I thought. Just slightly… bigger.”

Demyx laughed. “You’re stoned.”

“Am I?”

“I think.” He took the last drag off the joint and ground it out. He felt warm, sleepy.

"The silence is just so lovely," Ienzo said. "My head is always so full of noise--you have no idea. Everything is always too much."

"I can help you, you know. I can give you medicine which will help. Er. Well, like, actual medicine, not this."

He lay on his back and rested his head in Demyx's lap. "I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"Afraid who I'd be without it?" His eyes were glassy. Demyx brushed the hair from Ienzo's face and looked at both his eyes. "It's the most constant thing in my life. From the past, I mean."

"I don't want it to eat at you, though."

"No." Ienzo took Demyx's hand and began to toy with it, feeling at his fingers absently. It was hard to tell how much of this was weed or how much of this was true blue Ienzo, without the weight of fear or inhibitions. "I will consider it. Truthfully. This is the happiest I've ever been. It may just be my nature."

"Could be."

Demyx stroked his hair. It was so soft. He couldn't believe how soft it was. "God, I'm high," he mumbled.

Ienzo snorted. "You're not so above it all."

"Do I normally seem that way?"

"I can feel you detach yourself sometimes. That you take care of me sometimes instead of yourself."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

Demyx looked at him for a long time. "I feel like I'm pretending to be the person I want to be. I want to be better than I was. But it's hard. I get mad. I get frustrated and upset. Slipping into old habits would be so easy." Ienzo shut his eyes.

"I am listening. That feels very good."

"You're like a cat. Independent. Curious. Stubborn."

"Hard to win over. Hard to get rid of."

"I don't ever want to get rid of you."

He smiled. "How sweet."

"I can be very sweet. When I want to be."

Ienzo touched his cheek. "It is in your nature."

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“Well, I am.” He opened his eyes. “We’ve changed so much. And we’ll probably keep changing.”

“I know.”

“It feels… strange.”

Ienzo’s expression was sharp and serious, but Demyx couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter that caught in his throat.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“It’s not funny ,” Demyx said, and it was true; the laughter was divorced from his actual emotions. “As it is terrifying .”

“We’ve nothing to be afraid of.”

“It’s hard to get myself to believe that.” His eyes were watering. “Sometimes I swear I’m going to wake up and this will all be gone.” He was verbalizing thoughts he hadn’t been aware of.

“I know. I feel the same. But that is simply… simply not the case.” Ienzo sat up and tried to fix his hair. “I wish I could prove it to you.”

“...Zexion would never have been this nice to me.”

He smiled. “Demyx would never listen so emphatically.” Ienzo kissed him. “Our lives have been full of odd coincidences, but I’m glad you were one.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“To even calculate the odds of us existing at the same time--much less falling for one another--it must be one in a trillion.”

Demyx groaned. “I do not want to think about math right now.”

“I second that notion… I feel a tad dizzy.”

“Lay back down. It’ll pass.”

He did, pressing his face into one of the couch cushions. “This sensation is so curious,” he mumbled. “I should like to… examine it in more detail.”

Demyx laughed. “I can do that.”

[kurtty-drabbles]

“Shh, it’s alright,” the villain said. “You’re doing beautifully and I’m so proud of you. But that’s enough now. It was cruel of them to make you fight me - you could never have won. It’s not your fault.” (Belasco!verse, something that happened while they were still enemies)

@djinmer4 @brienne-of-the-sapphire-isle @thejadesabre

If Kurt can be honest, if he can confess, which itself is a blasphemy at this point, the life as a Demon Lord is not terribly bad, of course, in some cases Kurt may need to punish some people/demons/mutants and yes, in some cases Kurt may enjoy such acts, moreover, is not always.

However, one thing that takes his well-deserved sleep at night is the feeling of long and something else he can´t quite understand yet. The fabric of the space and dimension was altered and now Kurt is the new Belasco.

This new power gave him safety and time to think, not always Kurt understand how immensely powerful he is now, but, one thing is clear to the new Demon Lord.

He is missing her.

Kitty Pryde is on his mind like an infection that has no cure or he refuses to cure. Every time, his mind would think about small moments with this tiny woman.

“That´s why He is the best Robin Hood, not Errol Flynn”

“What? how dare you, Katzchen?”

Her laughter, smiles, pouts, tears, and scowl are stuck in his mind and Kurt wonders if this is a blessing or a curse. After some time, a concept that is new to Limbo, Kurt decides to take actions in his hand.

If the Demon Lord wants something, then he will get it.

And as blasphemy, as it is, Kurt wants, wants and wants her.

I´m getting mad or madder.

The few(or a lot of) stuffs Kurt knew and remember about Kitty, his Kitty, is how much she is ready to go to protect the ones she loves and Kitty Pryde is closer with Yana(this did give the wrong assumption to Pryor who was turning down more than once) and saved the blonde girl more than once.

Certainly, Captain Britain and the other X-men would go to him if he did kidnap Yana, is not a clever plan, Kurt knows it but is the one he will stick with(fear of rejection or of her own fear if he just show up in her door like the new Demon Lord is too heavy on him, too oppressor ) and begin setting things in motion.

Of course, unlike the other Belasco, Yana will not be harmed in any way, in fact, the girl is sleeping soundly in the limbo and it almost feels like she is making fun of Kurt.

Well, I can´t say anything, this plan is not the greatest either.

Finally, after some time(a non-existent term in Limbo that Kurt himself never learn) Kitty show up, wearing her blue outfit and with Yana´s soul sword and there´s no one else with her.

Did Brain …not tell her?

Kurt is not like the old Kurt, his fur and blue were replace for a more human skin, human and deadly, after all, is easier to manipulate people if you look like a handsome and gallant man then a blue demon.

“You kidnap Yana” shouts Kitty not having a great day, oh, Kurt remember that expression on her face, whilst his plan was not good, at very least she is here.

“She is sleeping, but, more important: you are alone?” there´s concern in his voice that the young woman doesn´t know what to say. Is he faking, mocking her or truly concerned?

“I assure you, I can kick your ass on my own”

“ I have a feeling you would say this”

Turns out that Kitty, with all her skills and intelligence, is not a match for a Demon Lord(to be fair, fewer are a match for Kurt now) and Kurt is really holding back.

When the Demon Lord realize that Kitty would fight until her last breath, the man/demon(labels are non-important now) didn´t think much when he turns Kitty into a kitten.

“Pretty Kitty, soft kitten”

“Kurt?”

“Shush, I´m singing to you”

This prompt the ever fighter!Kitty to drop her sword and stare in fear(something Kurt truly didn´t want to see, but, like the old saying: with great powers, you lose your humanity and make bad decisions) and a side part of Kurt quite enjoy this look on her.

Again, Kurt is biased when the subject in question is Kitty Pryde.

“Shh, it’s alright,” says walking towards the Kitten!Kitty trying to speak in a more soothing and sincere voice “ “You’re doing beautifully and I’m so proud of you. But that’s enough now. It was cruel of them to make you fight me - you could never have won. It’s not your fault” Kurt careless her head gently and Kitty falls to sleep, her head would hit the ground if Kurt didn´t stop the movement.

Kurt remains to hold Kitty until she wakes, the gesture would be sweet or even romantic if, well, the situation wasn´t as bizarre as this.

Her brown eyes open in fear and confusion but didn´t dare to move.

“Hi, fancy to meet you here? so, why I´m a kitten and where is Yana?”

“I live here and your name is Kitty” make a gesture with his right hand" but now is just in name, I wanted you to stop and that was the only solution I could come up with and Yana is fine, she is sleeping and unharmed"

“Well, you got my undivided attention, what do you want? and could you let me go?” Kurt almost says never but let Kitty leave his arms. She is tiny and warm, unlike him. A silence reigns between them, the Kitty in his mind was too angelical, too pure and the one in front of him is too real.

“I want to make a deal with you,” says mistaking Kurt´s silence with something worse either for her or Yana.

“You wanna make a deal with the devil?” there´s mirth in his words because only Kitty would try something so stupid, but she is lucky this time(if it was any other demon….)

“I stay here in and Yana goes home”

Kurt, understanding how bad he is with communications and Kitty, tries to make himself clear as possible.

“I never wanted her to begin with, it was always you” with a snap of his fingers the sleeping Yana was back to her home, “ I think no one mention who I´m and what I want is for you to stay here, not as my prisoner”

The word Kitty is looking to describe herself right now is flabbergast.

“What? Did you want a roommate? and who are you?” Kitty is confused and anger sure must exist a German word for such feeling.

“My name is Kurt Wagner, but in this dimension I´m Balasco, judging by the looks you are giving Captain Britain never told you”

“Prove,” says with finality “prove you are Kurt” my Kurt is implied or maybe Kurt is hopefully wistful.

“When you enter the mansion for the first time, you did cry feeling homesick, you did fear my look, but, you were the first to apologize say if we could be friends, you drink milk directly from the box and always liked fairytales stories”

Kitty´s jaw drops in astonishing and to ice the cake, Kurt shows his ‘new’ arm which is blue and familiar.

“Kurt, what the fuck?”

“Indeed, so no one told you anything?” Kitty responds this with a big no. There are anger and resentment and confusion with everything and everyone.

“So, you really wanted a Roommate?”

“I´m a Demon Lord, I can´t just put on the craigslist” jokes “and to be clear, you aren´t a prisoner …I just want…”

“A roommate? Got it, well, it wouldn´t be the first time we share a room in the most bizarre way”

“In the first time, Scott and Wolverine´s brawls destroyed my room, I wasn´t happy with that,” says remembering the incident.

“Well, mission accomplished, you got a new roommate” and Kitty may say or do anything but when Kurt´s blue arm start to hurt, everything was forgotten(for now)

“Hey, are you alright?”

“This arm hurts me” the pain is sporadical, sometimes the pain is minimal and other is giant. Kitty touches his arm in a medical procedure. The pain finally ceased with her touches.

“So, while I was sleeping, what did I miss?”

[brain-spasm-of-musical-emotion]

Before their latest album « Murder of The Universe » is released King Gizzard and The Lizard Wizard were playing on stage at the This Is Not A Love Song Festival in Nîmes. A perfect occasion to meet Stu Mackenzie singer of the band, in order to talk about the history of this extraordinary band straight out of Melbourne.

This group of seven Australians including two drummers and a harmonica (answer to this John Dwyer) sows chaos to each of its representations. Their tours are systematically sold out and the slightest new thing from the band on the internet such as a new video or any image from instagram arouses general hysteria. Announced as the closing act of This Is Not A Love Song Festival the members weren’t all there for the following interview but we got the “thinking head” for 15 minutes.

I heard you often go doing impro in Daptone Records’ studios in New York.

We recorded a few times there and I’m In Your Mind Fuzz and Nonagon Infinity were conceived there. It’s an amazing place I’d like to go back more often but as we’re always touring we don’t really have time to stop in New-York. We don’t play a lot there so it limits the possibilities.

But now you have your own studio in Melbourne

Yes but it’s not exclusive. Sometimes it’s hard to plan to record an album ahead not knowing what’s gonna happen in the meantime nor where we will be. The fact to have our own studio allows us not to be dependent from others. It’s rather messy and empty like a box of sardines smelling like sweat but we can do everything there. It’s small but it does the job, it’s cool. Our love home-studio.

You have the reputation to compose and record your songs in one day and one take.

It was like this for “Flying Microtonal Banana” but for this album it was even worse than that giving we recorded 21 songs in 3 days. Most of the songs are actually quite basic whether it’s the lyrics, the composition or the guitar riffs. We’re used to improvise, to focus of specific chords suits and to find variations which are linked and get fucked-up. This is how we compose and record and you can hear it clearly on some of our albums. And yeah generally it works in one take. We’re the dream band of every sound engineer.

Rightly a lot of your songs overlap into one another and are very similar. Where does this whim of making albums of several songs which actually only form one come from?

I’ve always liked recordings and albums which give you the feeling of being deep in a story with a logic continuity rather than an sequence of different songs. To me it seems like the right way of making albums.

By the way, a lot of your fans are talking about “gizzverse” on the internet a term that represents the universe and the links existing between your songs, lyrics, covers, videos… Is it intentional or are your fans the craziest on the planet?

No there are definitely a lot of links which refer to previous albums. The album isn’t released yet (at the moment of the interview) and it’s kinda funny to see all these theories on the web. When the album will be out things are gonna get clearer. I think that in everything that has been thought about Gizzverse (especially on Reddit) there are a lot of ideas we wouldn’t have never thought of. It’s kinda funny seeing this frenzy.

The guy who does the covers of the band is the same one since the beginning.

Yes Jason Galea and he also does the visuals for our gigs. He follows us everywhere when he has the time. He’s like the eighth member of the band. He works next to our recording studio in Melbourne and hears everything we do so he knows exactly what to propose to us to stick to the universes of the albums. He’s super involved in visual creation and there is a great alchemy between visual and sound. By the way on the road between Primavera Nos in Portugal and Nîmes we stopped on hills in Spain to shot a new video not far from the Pyrénées.

I heard you’re pretty interested in working in the cinema too. King Gizzard’s music could make an entire movie in a horrific style like Frankenstein.

I would love to be involved in such a project. If anyone reads these lines and would like to work with me I’m in! I think the band is already in an optic where visual takes a bigger place with our videos ; which is becoming more and more necessary for bands in general.

Your last album “Murder of The Universe” tells a story with a spoken word background. We’re not far from the cinema but in an auditory trip.

It’s true we had already done something similar with our album “Eyes Like The Sky”. This albums is cut in three chapters. The first one The Tale of The Altered Beast explores the themes of temptation and tells the story of a human being who meets a hybrid and mystical creature half-human half-beast. The second one The Lord of Lightning vs. Balrog is focused on a big battle between two entities nicknamed Lord of Lightning and Balrog who represent light’s strength against darkness. The third one Han-Tyumi & The Murder of The Universe deals with a cyborg starting to becoming conscious of its nature and becomes obsessed with throwing-ups and deads. He decides to create a creature named Soy-Protein Munt Machine which only purpose is to vomit. This machine explodes and infinitely expulses throwing-ups which encompass the whole universe and destroy it. Whence the name of the album.

The person who tells the story of the album is an Australian singer signed on your record label Flightless.

Yeah Leah Senior is amazing. We recorded her second album. By listening to it I became obsessed by her voice and we decided she’d be perfect to tell the story of Murder of The Universe. She came in total impro and she killed it.

For most people when we talk about garage and psychedelic rock we usually think about California. But with your band but also The Babe Rainbom, The Murlocs, ORB, POND…. Is Australia the new psych rock nirvana?

From my humble experience, Australia has a long story with rock & roll. But I don’t think things have particularly changed these past years. There always have been brilliants bands. But I think we can still thank Tame Impala for bringing the spotlights on our country recently.

You planned on releasing five album this years. At about half of it you released two. Isn’t your bet a bit bold as you’re always on the road?

We’re gonna try! We have a few ideas we might release but the first one is already happening.

You arrived at quite a heavy moment, hard to surpass in terms of violence. How’s the suite gonna sound?

It’s the angriest album we’ve ever done. For what is about to be released at the end of the year it’s gonna be calmer. The next one will be rather mellow jazz. We worked on it with Alexander Brettin from Mild High Club, a great Los Angeles band. They came to play our Gizzfest in Australia last November. He stayed a few weeks at home and we went to the studio every day. He had dome ideas of pieces and a lot of weed. After many trips back and forth between Melbourne and Los Angeles it was finished. It will be called “Sketches of Brunswick East” It’s a bit of a meeting between our two bands it’s fun. It’s a bit unexpected as a result, it’s a weird experimental jazz, very melodic. It will happen quickly. Jason is already working on the cover.

Don’t you ever stop? Worse than Ty Segall

I think in life you can’t do nothing indefinitely. I have to continually do something because I go crazy otherwise. Uselessness kills.

We could say that with King Gizzard’s music and particularly with Murder of the Universe you are apocalypse soldiers. What do you think?

I think the world we live in is going down. I don’t know if human condition is made to last there are so many things that can happen. I think in general people are afraid to openly talk about dangers we can meet because it is scary to think about the worst. When you think about future generations, having children, environment, artificial intelligence… it’s not necessarily cheerful but it’s important to think about it and not pretend everything is alright. Sometimes I think it’s interesting to make the music I make with King Gizzard a bit fanciful and SF but we’re not that far from reality in a way. It’s kinda the challenge of Murder of The Universe to open the discussion. I don’t care about talking about death, it’s part of life.