Alexis Kanatsios, Mike Kelley, Lei Lei Kung, Spencer Lai, Jasper Jordan Lang, Nik Lee, Adam Martin, Anabel Robinson, Eric Schmid, Xavier Vasco, Jordan Wolfson, 'More Love'.

4 - 19 Jun 2022

The sky here is violet and there are no lies. A sign reads: “For the Amelioration of the Condition of the Wounded and Sick: you have stumbled upon a place that is not for respite”. Choose to enter? //<yes/no>//. Between edges, rounded into a plushness, lies a mindframe... it’s a lifestyle... a grindset built on protruding abrasions. In the corner some debased thing begs for more and more... Love? It puts out for you, repeatedly presenting itself with an uncanny magnetism - somehow it stings, but the copulation continues. The key is to fight it and then to give; drain, succumb and then fight it some more. The creature is always hungry, each time malnourishment sporadically gapes wide, it demands replenishment.

In ideal love one evaporates through attention; in more love one is caught in limbo.
You feed for what feels like years, loving the brute until... floating sediment, dancing in a crack of light, abruptly releases you into the sensation of the sun’s heat, reviving your gaunt soma. Exhausted and depleted, you stumble and collapse into elastic cobblestone, the sound of a Wah-wah pedal emerging from nothing and becoming pleasantly deafening, wrapping you in its funky warmth. The Wahs muddle into a scape of feedback and rearranges into lower harmonies – further back and faster through the thresholds which inhibit them. The pulsations become smooth, and the smoothness becomes a weapon in the inferno of the same. Shaken from your trance, the oxygen feels cleaner amongst inherited furnishings and your sharehouse’s tungsten glow.

Press: Audrey Schmidt, "More Love," Memo Review, 18 Jun 2022, https://memoreview.net/reviews/more-love.