Artist: Conveyor
Title: Mammal Food / Pushups

Format: 7" Gold Vinyl (w/ simple white die-cut jacket)
Run: 250
Design: Ted Feighan
Release Date: December 10, 2013
Price: $5.99

PREFACE

And so, notwithstanding a significant amount of work put toward another full-length long-player, here is an extra release that stands unequivocally alone. Mammal Food/Pushups is a new 7” vinyl single being released on Gold Robot Records. It is composed of two songs, “Mammal Food” and “Pushups,” by Conveyor.1 These two songs exist as a series, presented in no uncertain order, that effects a type of one-way communication, the message of which forms a totality, a discourse, an observation and a reaction, both a signifier and what is signified. But how is it that as a set, these individual songs which define their own limits, irrupt at one moment and announce their conclusion at the next, and lie tangential yet ultimately separate from each other, how is it that in their totality, in their united, continuous motion, they form a third, helical, strobogrammatic object? It is not that each one explicates an idea set forth by its anterior brother, finally concluding in the resolution of a unique idea or statement of being. It is not that each one in its own right slouches in the negative space between being and non-being, a declension from reason and wellness. It is not even that each one represents the reality of its originators, though the heavy-handedness of a few lines will, I hope, be forgiven. No- instead it is the breaks and silences, the caesurae, the negativities that form relations between the ideas and enunciations, concepts, and the songs as objects that give this series its voice.2

It is in the lyrics- that one song is a representation of minimal self-esteem and the other of maximal self-esteem serves to identify “self-esteem” (or, at least, reflexive regard for one's self) as an object and delineate a spectrum on which it can be said to exist, all of which implicates a further, unspoken, theoretically “real” value that lies somewhere in the middle.

It is in the music- that each song occupies the space between authenticity and charade as a factor of its physical construction skews one's perception of assumptions v. expectations, perceived reality v. “actual” reality, and affinity v. disdain.

Alright, but then at this point I've already said too much; what exists for me exists entirely as a construction of myself, and in presenting that subjectivity along with those of my brothers from other mothers, we have situated this record at a point in time. That our temporal and spatial anomalies can be defined in a personally significant sense or a mathematically significant sense merely represents yet other modes of discourse about the same thing, and that is a thing which is a singularity. It is an event which multiplies rapidly upon repeated inspection but which remains composed of the same, finite strata; it exists only as a function of how it can be reacted to, and each subsequent reaction says more about it than it can ever say for itself. The only thing left for me to say, which is as much a reaction as anything else and should not be confused for a statement of intention or a means by which I should eternally bind myself to it, associate to it, or regulate its public perception, is that it comprises two fucking good songs.

- T.J. Masters
September 2013

1 Here is some relevant background information and a list of associated personnel for those who require it: the songs were written in 2013 while residing in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, NY. They were recorded both in Greenpoint and Astoria, Queens, NY using a Harmony-brand acoustic guitar, undated. They were mixed by the members of Conveyora and mastered by Nick Carden in Oakland, CA. Jessi Frick is responsible for motivation, and Hunter Mack is responsible for movement. They are dedicated in form and in function to Robbie Carroll.
   awho are Gary Alan Busch, Jr., Michael Ryan Pedron, Timothy John Masters,
     and Evan Michael Garfield

2 Cf. Foucault, M. (1972). The Archaeology of Knowledge. Great Britain: Tavistock Publications, Ltd.

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