Tetris Reverb Has Tinnitus
Inside the backseat of my ’94 Honda Accord Sedan, I found the remains of Tetris Reverb. He had been crushed inside of a mini-cd labelled 2003, the last album he would ever release. Reverb is now corrupt: scant audio files, some two minutes and forty-five seconds of video, and a .txt file comprising a 2004 interview he took with the nudist magazine Cheeky Pete, titled ‘Tetris Reverb Has Tinnitus’.
The following is the contents of that CD.
Tetris, are there any topics you’d like me to steer clear of before we start? Not really--is this right?--no, but I would prefer not to be asked too many deep questions, Pete. It’s actually Steven. Right. So, nothing too deep. I’m really not in the mood to terrify anyone today.:::::::::::::::::::: Every album I make is a truth-- is a truthful statement. I sometimes like to imagine, sometimes, if this album was in court. Is it under oath? Is it committing purgatory?-- Perjury. Perjury, right. What’s purgatory then? What am I thinking of?:::::::::::::::::::: EK#*W(P@(UM(M()#—ˆ˛´Ô*X#X#)ˆ´ÔˆÔ˛˜´˛Ô´And secondly, exactly, what is the point of this. Oh, did I not just explain-- No, what is. As in what is the subject. Me, being the interrogative; you’re making me into a what. It’s an already abstracted matter, and you keep pretending like it’s not. What do you want, Pete? Wanting to know me so desperately? What?:::::::::::::::::::: I’ve been ˛ÂÍUUWHIW)@Pz_[enamoured with the album, of late. @X)Ô˝Í„Ô˜Œ∏WKOWn it’s in this strange state of statuesque posturing, 2003 is suspended in motion, gesturing towards some movement that came before, and that will come afterwards, but stuck there, always reaching-- Do you ever, like, just sit in silence? S-sorry? You’re incredibly talkative. Well, I-- You’re a very chatty person.:::::::::::::::::::: Heartbreak is a spondee. That’s a foot consisting of two stressed syllables: heart [Reverb claps] break [clap]. You fall in love [clap], and pull yourself together [clap]. She loves you [clap], she loves you not [clap]; possessed [clap], possession [clap]; erect [clap] floppy [clap]; potsherd [clap] pot [clap]-- Tetris! [clap] Reverb. Get it?♪♫ ♪♪♫ ♪♫♬ ♪♫♪
…Thursday Thursday
Thursday
Must I really say
How much I wait for your pen-ultimate days
Thursday, oh what a day
I really really really like you… Thursday, Thursday…
♪♫ ♪♪♫ ♪♫♬ ♪♫♪ It’s an interview. So we’re meant to talk-- interviews are-- Interviews are done in silence, mate. What? Some interviews are done in silence. Some of the best ones. I don’t-- How do you think people communicate with their higher power? Prayer. That’s an interview. This right here’s worship.:::::::::::::::::::: Not many people know this, but you currently hold the World Record for being the ‘World’s Briefest Orphan’. How has this experience figured into your music-making, if at all? The briefest victories require the longest victory laps.EIXJW2003ZUW IEOZJ(W)Z_@_!)@ ((<>>@)@_@)For one minute. One minute, I was an orphan. ŘŘÂÅØ„Øı„ØNHO———__JWXSkWNJW it was volatile—the most unstable, volatile, jtrhepøººÔÔˆÅØÅÒ∏Åand_depressing-2003200320032003200320032003200-like a nuclear bomb getting fed through a straw.ZÍØÔ„°€‚⁄—⁄some people get that nuclear bomb their whole life. But I only got it for one lonely minute. Through the straw. 2003 was that minute--[a plane fliesÔ˜ÅÁ¸˝„Œ°Ø·€⁄‚ €Í·‚⁄·———⁄—Í€”‚∏ÅØ€¸Ô:::::::::::::::::::: One of your lyrics that I wanted to talk to you about was from 2003. It’s from the track ‘I really really really like Thursdays… maybe even more than I like Fridays’, you write of ‘Gregorious Saturday’ this intercalary-- You’ve hit it. That’s the album. ‘Gregorius Saturday’ encapsulates the whole album. Because ‘Penultimate Thursday’, it’s the best day. And ‘Gregorious Saturday’ is ’03. It flies by. Not real. Not real. Not real, mate. It’s a myth.::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::: Everything I write is about heartbreak. Happy is an iamb. I am not.:::::::::::::::::::: Are you Cheeky Pete? No, I’m just a subeditor. Steven. Where’s Cheeky Pete? He’s just a character. That’s dumb. That’s a silly thing to make. Is that journalism these days? Is that music journalism? Well-- You hide behind a character? It’s-- it’s special interest-- You hide behind a character? Pete?::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::: I’m curious then, how much of yourself is in what you write? When we go out to buy… 2003, what are we getting? You’re buying an identity. You’re buying a piece of me, but I am no artist, mate. I’m a fucking inventor.:::::::::::::::::::: Could you explain your decision to have ‘Smokey Face’ appear twice on 2003--as both the closing and opening track of the album--with no changes between them? No I cannot.♪♫ ♪♪♫ ♪♫♬ ♪♫♪
Is it sixth, or seventh
at the end of the week?
Gregorious Saturday
not for me
But, Thursday I really quite like you
Thursday, oh amorous day
Thursday, Thursday
I really really really like you… Thursday
♪♫ ♪♪♫ ♪♫♬ ♪♫♪ I don’t hide behind a character, it says published by Steven, that’s my-- Yeah, but you are enforced by a character, aren’t you? By Cheeky Pete? You are forced to work at the whims of an imaginary character called Cheeky Pete. Right, Pete? He’s not real, he’s just sort of like a mascot-- Exactly, he’s imaginary. That’s what imaginary means. Mascot; imaginary. And he’s cheeky, he’s not professional.::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::: Looking over your career, you don’t seem to write much of what many would call ‘traditional’ love songs? Why is that? There’s nothing more selfish than a love song. Nobody writes a love song for anyone other than themselves. It’s nothing but emotional masturbation: utterly self-involved and without even the decency of a climax. If love songs worked, you’d only have to listen to them once, and then you’d move on with your life. People love to replay love songs--why do you think that is? Sometimes they even mix the whole thing with actual masturbation. That’s particularly nasty, and a sure way to erode one’s faith in a stable reality. I don’t write about love, I love what I write. There’s a difference there.:::::::::::::::::::: Would you ever consider releasing music outside of a year that ends in 4? Never. It’d kill me.::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::: The public expects continuity. That continuity means authenticity. That authenticity is just expectation. But everyone forgets, the truth was surprising once too.:::::::::::::::::::: So, what is Cheeky Pete? He’s a-- well, he’s a naked-- That’s inane. It’s-- it’s a play on-- to do with our, um, thing: ‘The truth and nothing butt the truth’. That’s inane. It’s our slogan, Cheeky Pete’s-- You seem confused. Firstly: what is Cheeky Pete? The character, the magazine, or you? And secondly#*@(!@()@Z(——±Œ‚:::::::::::::::::::: You can’t reduce the musical phrase to a single note without also reducing it to its inevitable predication: what’s next? Because when that note fades—-and it will—-how long do we wait until we decide the question hasn’t been answered? A minute? An hour? A year? Ten? How long do we let it linger?:::::::::::::::::::: I’m so glad you agreed to this interview, Tetris. I haven’t slept all week, I’ve been so excited.::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::: Have you seen this? Yes, I just picked one up yesterday. It’s wonderful. So small too. I just wish the headphones were a bit louder--hard to hear over the ringing in my ears.:::::::::::::::::::: I’m curious, what was so special about 2003 that you had to make it the focus of an entire album? And then release that album the following year? In 2004? Yes. Well, it just wasn’t a leap year, mate, and ’04 was_&*@(UNOXIZ@Y#&IO that didactic nature of my writing, where it’s commentary on a moment in time, for another brief moment in time. It’s something I like to call: futuristic commentary… of the nowÒÒ€‚€··°€‚ºøˆ∑˚¬≥≤µ∫˜µ≤…eh32n1j2HRJQ2003æ¬˚∆˙©ƒç∂≈ß´®†¥¨I, me; We:
This is I,
[Piano Solo]
This is me.
[Guitar Solo]
And now, We:
[silence: 4 minutes]
:::♪:::♬::♫♪♬♫:♪:♬♫♪: It is my sincere belief that the linguistic tempo of the average English speaker is in fact off by about six metric beats. I want to kiss you Dad [Reverb claps six times] versus: I want to kill you Dad [Reverb claps six times, slightly faster this time]. I know which I prefer.:::::::::::::::::::: Well, it isn’t as if everything you say is real. Surely, some of it is just performance? Some of it’s performance, mate. Some of it is real. Doesn’t make it any less honest. Now that’s finally a good question, Steven.♪♫ ♪♪♫ ♪♫♬ ♪♫♪
Προοίμιον (200≠)
I used to pave highways with blood,
and drive leagues on light alone
where I chewed axioms, spat idioms,
and quaffed gnomes
Now,
I am an epigraph.
My name is Tetris Reverb
Achoo!
My name is Tetris Reverb
Watch me perdure
……………..…..
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:::::::::::::::::::: ‘Reverb’ is an iamb. I am not. It’s also a trochee, if you say it right. The complete opposite. I don’t think that’s right... so, you’re claiming to be both a rising and a falling? But never at the same time. The motion must cease, before the whole can appear, Steven. Heart [clap] break [clap].::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::: Could I get a copy of this afterwards? I’ve said some great stuff today. I’ll have to ask my editor-- I want to put it on the CD. It just might be copyrighted. Ah. And telling me my own life story isn’t?:::::::::::::::::::: Or, is the question still there? Has it lingered? Is every question an answer to one we’ve just forgotten? Linger.:::::::::::::::::::: I’m unmoored::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::: Did you prepare for this? No-- yeah, yeah, I did. That’s the problem. W-what do you mean? You’ve imagined this whole conversation in your head, and you don’t know how it’s going to go, mate. You went to bed last night thinking about, ‘Oh he’s going to be so nice and friendly, he’s going to love my questions.’ You thought you knew me, cunt. You don’t know me, cunt. Oh, I’ve done research on your past interviews-- Research isn’t research, mate. From what I’ve read-- Research isn’t research, mate. x112x)ZZZ_Z@)@! XOIKWIJJW@)@!**@(@!)!_@)(@ [pause: languid] 4384096)?(b[_.v]=c|2 20032003200320032003_____ sxnxwiwowjxxw Then what is it? Preliminary experience.::::::::::::::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::: What that question is, I don’t know, but everything I make is begging for it. In every question there’s lingering guidelines of an acceptable answer. And in every album, I’m changing those guidelines. I’m going to assume that answer means you’re a cat person.♪♫ ♪♪♫ ♪♫♬ ♪♫♪
I think I see your face smoking on the horizon
Blow, blow blow blow, blow away, horizon
And let me smoke, your brainless face instead
On April 4th 2009, after his final live performance at Luna Park, Tetris Reverb passed away from either electrocution or The Bends. 2003 would be the last album he would ever release. Nobody knows why he went snorkeling in Sydney Harbour that day with only his iPod.
Mr. Reverb is now spinning indelibly in my Walkman (MZ-N910) until I cease to repeat myself; I’m reminded of my poor memory. 2003 was the last album he would ever release. If I concentrate I can hear my cochlea beneath the music, which promptly stops. Nothing sounds like it always does until the Walkman screeches and the memory fades and ‘Smokey Face’ starts to play; I’m reminded of my poor memory, again. You were just passing through; I’m here for good. Forever can only mean now; I’m reminded of my poor memory:
I guess it’s always the first time
||::::::::::::::::::::||
James Wily (he/him) is a writer/director based in Gadigal Sydney. His stories and poems have been published in various publications like Booker, Honi Soit and PULP. James’s writing has been described by many closest to him as ‘inscrutably stupid’, and many more even further away from him as ‘brilliantly moronic’. He is currently the youngest he'll ever be.
Nat Jensen (he/him) is a writer, comedian and actor based in Gadigal Sydney. He performs improv, stand-up and sketch comedy whilst also starring in numerous plays throughout Sydney. He is the co-host of the smash hit musical comedy podcast We’ve Got Earworms and when he’s not singing, writing or laughing, he is teaching improv to high-school students around Sydney.