Fossil's Dream

by Wishbone Zoe

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    a real live copy of "FD" with inside and back cover art and everything. Plus a custom-designed sleevy containing a disc of two bonus "FD" skits and three tracks from then-17-year old WZ's first self-released demo "Incomprehensible Sky"

    Includes unlimited streaming of Fossil's Dream via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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released May 28, 2016

Produced by Wishbone Zoe

Written, Recorded & Mixed by S Kochanski @ Attic Stables (Westfield MA) in '15

"Rabbits" mixed by Anand Nayak at Sonelab (Easthampton MA) in '16

Mastered by Mark Alan Miller at Sonelab in '16

All sounds by S Kochanski except:

the radio bits (oops)
Drums on 4, 6, & 10 -- JJ O'Connell
violin on 4 & 9 and vocals on 6 -- Caroline O'Leary
vocals on 4, 6, & 9 -- Matt O'Leary & Iva Kurkimaki
vocals on 6 -- Josh Daniel
spoken things -- Victoria DePrille

music from 2015/2016
old tape nonsense from 2000-2003

Thank You So Kindly: those who recorded & lent time/ears/hands, JJ O'Connell and my dad P Kochanski, The Leafies You Gave Me, Mad Habits, Paul Preston, Ashlyn Pentowski, the Platinum Pony, Breadwinner, Bueno Y Sano, the Homestead in Holyoke, Mom, Mitzi, the K's

For Vicky & Gabby



all rights reserved


Wishbone Zoe Northampton, Massachusetts

S Kochanski makes loud and quiet sounds with banjo, vocal chords, guitar, melodica, bass, trash percussion, radio/old appliances and other noises in Massachusetts. In the past, she's shared bills with the likes of the Suitcase Junket, Arc Iris, And The Kids, Bella's Bartok,
Heather Maloney, Girl in a Coma, and Rushad Eggleston (Tornado Rider, Crooked Still)
... more

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Track Name: Mellow-Tron
down in the glades where i sit with you again,
particles begin their spin
and every thought we have is wired to our brains,
transmitting through our hands.

beneath us,
dead fossils are dreaming pale dreams,
swimming up to just beneath the surface,
in movement with the phases of the moon.

there's rhythm, and i'm humming like a mellotron
Track Name: Bloody Teef (Saints)
dear mr, highway patrol, i've got it under control
and i'd like to make it to boston tonight if i can,
i could have easily taken the wrong exit and ran
and avoided spilling my guts and my cool in the snow

i am and have always been a flailing kite,
but weighted with a muscle of stubborn stoicity
i had to prove i was a strong girl, but my body still hurt

if i were an elephant, i'd lift my wise ancient head
i'd never forgive you and i'd never forget what you said:
"what are they doing up there?"
why should i care?
they're not saints.

"did you put fish into the magistrate's soup?" they inquired.
i said, "my golly, i hope not."
lately, it seems the only movement around me are those of the roots
tying me down to the spot.
my arms are blistering from holding all this excess weight,
i can't even soak in rays from the sun.
blue veins make such a pretty sense when nothing does:
atoms swarming, collapsing as one.

my dear, you know you've got some sun
and your summer-bruised eyes look tired.
you're far too green to be blue.
one day you'll learn that your bloody teeth won't do you favors,
you're the only one strong enough to carry you.
Track Name: Pulmona Lisa
there is a woman
and they call her pulmona lisa
she don't talk too much
but she smiles and she

she takes deep breaths in
and out, and while the
people break their backs trying to
get round obstacles
she floats effortless-
ly over them on a

i met a boy hiding in a mailbox, i said "what are you hiding from?"
he said, he wasn't sure, he said
"my amygdala has final say over EVERYTHING i do, so
i stay out of the way of the happy confident people so they don't ask me

they asked me if i was a trypophobic
and they showed me some pictures...
but a hand or an indigo child could bring me to tears
they said, "there must be something wrong here"
and showed me some more...

but they never once got to the deepest part of my fears...

that woman, the one they call pulmona lisa,
think i'd like to try to be her
and live underneath
what people consider to be sanity (sharp and sanitary)
like foxes and bugs and cats living in trashcans know,
that it's never too late
to be

suggested reading: "quiet" by susan cain
Track Name: Oh
oh when? oh! when when oh when ohohwhenwhenohohohwehn
will things start to make sense to me?
i've been walking around with my head
in a vertigo conductant jelly
(and the lightning is getting fairly close i feeling lucky? i don't know)

i went to talk to my barefoot friend in the falls-town, and she said:

take it to zeus in the ionosphere,
he might tell you what to do

oh why! why! whyohwhywhyohwhy do the things I need
to understand lay underneath a viscous layer of mud?
i've been floating in the garden o'er the place where i
previously stood
the moths (butterflies) in my belly are holding me above the ground,
disguised as wet, heavy leaves until now

i went to talk to my anarchist friends who looked at me with cloudy eyes and they said:

take it to zeus in the ionosphere,
he might tell you what to think
he might tell you to kiss his ring, but i'll tell you one thing:
there's nothing you can tell him that he doesn't already know

and i said OH: what if i already know?...
and i said OH: what if i don't WANT to know?...

such are things in this world
Track Name: Gumbo Jumbo
i love fargo, and fargo loves me
i heard voices in my head so i smashed my tv
i'm not interested in what you're trying to sell me,
why you trying to manipulate me?

outcast, canyon-sized,
everybody pick a side (L/R)
outcast, stigmatized
everybody close your eyes to the spectacular lies

animals are looking rather gravely at us
and we keep our eyes conveniently apart
and sharks and butterflies when they're dead behind the glass
don't give a fuck about your piece of modern art


now i am not a diplomat that keeps a vile of cynicism
pushed in my pocket to wash my hands of this world
no i really tie myself to the tracks like this because
i want to see my wings unfurl
Track Name: Pangaea
when i sat and looked up at the veins of the trees
i felt something colossal shift in my mind
as if the groaning heaves of Eon came loose below me
and sent me staggering for a moment in time

and with my arms extended outward ahead,
i try to feel every bead of blood in my bones
i've never been very good with saying what i mean
but i've an even worse fear of saying nothing
and being

when the prokaryotic seas swam and the atmosphere boiled
they took all that they wanted without care
they were children! they explored!
how could they possibly know
that they'd soon die out once they used up all of their air

and i'd like to say that it doesn't bother me much
i can look back, learn the lessons and be satisfied.
but i kid myself trying to carry the weight of the phanerozoic race
with my mitochondria screaming from inside

and when i was a creature living in Pangaea
i looked up at the sky and would feel afraid
but the cold shine of stars warmed our bodies in the dark,
the same dust from which we were made

and i'd like to say that it doesn't bother me much
i can find peace by looking inside
but i kid myself when i stare into the eyes of the ocean
and it blamelessly looks back, knowing i'm the one who has something to hide

tell me: when you were a creature living in pangaea
did you look up at the sky and feel afraid?
did the cold shine of stars warm your body in the dark?
did you question once the dust from which
they were made?
Track Name: Slowest Rabbits
damien hirst is of no interest to me
but i figured i'd take the course anyway
what's three more credits on my AS
for some skills as an artist i could use every day?

someone said "heymanwatchyourfeetdon'tsteponmyvintageboots"
so i took the seat furthest away
we watched a naked woman scream and naked people sleep
and a film of a fly on the wall over the course of a day

(look at those energetic lines)
(but look deeper)
(i like this moment here)

we call ourselves the future of the intellectual world
but our activism's only got by some
we'll wear patches on our backs of Siouxsie Sioux and Crass
but it's only to show that we've got one
(élaborer, se il vous plaît?)

i. don't. want. to. call. this. glove. stapled. to. a. wall. art.
and it was the last thing i expected when i set this doll on fire
for you to think it's poignant and smart

(this use of water)
(shows how time is fleeting.)

(élaborer, se il vous plaît?)
Track Name: Day 1
san bruno, ca. 7am
wellfleet, ma. 4pm

where have i been today? my sunshine is gone
where have i been today? my sunshine is gone
could've sworn i woke up laughing yesterday on the lawn
when pastel light was breaking, but the sunshine gone

someone got on in colma who reminded me of me
i turned my face to the rushing landscape and tried not to see
that's when the humming started deep inside my head
as mute whiteness crept up and ossified
my confidence into a milk-lead

i've got a bag of obstacles waiting for me
but i'd like to sign my name on the cast on your knee
cars on the freeway, sunshine following me
it becomes day quicker here than i ever thought it'd be