by idXed

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Translations - Another split with (??) set to trigger the mind to question its ability to question itself and all other things. Lyrically influenced by Dostoyevsky's Notes From The Underground, this release is accompanied by (shortish) rants explaining, or at least elaborating on, the ideas provoked by the book and extended upon thereafter. Musically, it's 0.25 grind, 0.25 ambient and 0.5 post-rock influenced - mostly mid-paced, grunge-level heaviness.


released October 21, 2012




idXed Albuquerque, New Mexico

Acoustichaos Forest Punk vs. Psychegrind Doomind

idXed // Idea Defined is a solo project based solely out of mind. Taking influence from trips to dreams, grind to trip hop, from poetry to paintings and noise to ambiance its aim is to be as free of form as it is strange in style. ... more

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Track Name: Borrowed Visions
I bleed these dreams to be released from entropy...

When we sleep different channels open wide and we can surf the labyrinths of our minds. Science says that it's either an evolutionary tactic developed to practice survival methods around the clock or else it's just a random and insignificant series of neuron impulses triggered during nightly repairs. New Age may say that it's a form of travel or release from the physical body so that the spirit is temporarily free to embark upon infinity. Our ancestors saw dreams as a way to commune with the dead and a means to bear witness to the Ultimate Godhead. Dreams are deeply personal experiences, though they are not entirely ours. We are merely nets cast into the Universe by unseen hands fishing for higher truths. What gets caught in the webs of our ethereal selves are the indivisible particles that make up existence - information. The fabric that gives rise to the bodies that dream, the mouths that speak, the hands that write and the minds that interpret it all is constantly being formed (in-formation), deconstructed and rebuilt in higher forms. These dreams are not mine. They are not yours. They belong to no one, to no thing. Brainwaves are the antennas that pickup these cosmic frequencies. Language is the station we tune to in order to decipher the messages. Bodies are the batteries that power the system. Experience is the illusion created by it all and ego is the trap set by our ghostwriters to keep us from knowing the plot. These songs aren't mine and neither are these words. The dreams I bleed were lent to me by some nothing.
Track Name: Complex
Are we mirrors or are we walls?

Birds of a feather flock together. We are only the sum of all those around us. But if we are all mirrors, then what are we reflecting? Maybe we're all facing some secret center and reflecting reflections of the generations before us who are all reflecting the reflections of the generations that came before them who are all reflecting the reflections of... and so on and so on. Reality would soon take on the shape of an onion if this were so. The only difference would be that our freshest, youngest flesh would be toward the outside and the oldest layers near the center. This way there would have to be more cells every generation and therefore more reflections and more angles of the preceding reflections reflected than in generations before. So we'd be constantly propelling ourselves away from the center. Well, if we work our way toward the center, what would we see? Inevitably, we would come upon one single point that all other points revolve around, much like the structure of an atom or of solar systems. What would this center be? God? The great Mind? The true Self? And on the contrary, if we are all walls then we lose our holy transience and become stagnant beings not working to or from any center, but instead holding fast to our born positions. We would be stubborn and ill prepared for change. Our lives would be a constant struggle against gravity whose metaphysical counter part is entropy. In myself I see the qualities of a wall and of a mirror. In the people around me I see different and unique ratios of wall/mirror personalities. So my inadequate, fence-walking solution to this problem is that nothing is so black and white. Everything exists in shades of gray. We are mirrors and we are walls. Our personalities change constantly. Even physically! Our cells completely regenerate every seven years. And at the same time there is something so solidified in us that we are always ourselves, even if we can't define concepts such as “Self.” This is the permanence of our holy transience. We are riddles against ourselves in this paradoxical existence.
Track Name: Of The Wall
Do we reflect attempts at transcending our mortal debt or do we deflect the flicker of optimism?

Why walls and mirrors? Why mice and bulls? Why not? Analogy is the subjective trigger to the universal Truth we all seek through our own means. Anywhere we look we can extract the Truth. All things are implicit by nature. One can only get out of something what one puts into anything. In my previous dualistic dogmatism I came to the conclusion that all things exist within a predetermined system. For everything you do, there is something you do not do that is countered elsewhere by someone or something else doing that very thing. There was right and there was wrong. There was you and there was me. But on liberating mountaintops and in their debilitating valleys I found another piece of the puzzle that brought me one step closer to a complete world view. There is no right and there is no wrong. There is only what you do and what you do not. “Right” and “wrong” are irrelevant attributes added by people on the wall end of the spectrum, those who have more faith and put more weight in their opinions than those on the opposite, mirror end of the same spectrum. This brought me to believe and to know that everyone is right and still somehow wrong. My mind opened so wide that my brain fell out. I was a gullible fool. But then another piece fell into place. I once believed that for everything you do there is something that you don't do... and by the same 'logic,' for anything you don't do, there is something else that you do and so reality always just balanced itself out regardless of what values were held or what intent laid behind certain actions. My belief made life out to be a pointless waste of time. Anything you do is undone elsewhere. Whatever you don't is done there too! Realizing this as a poisonous pseudo-philosophy freed me from the aimlessness itself. See, it wasn't a love of knowledge that brought me to that point, but a fear of acceptance that dragged me away. It was a limiting scope, a worldview through a pinhole in the fabric of a dying Self. I clung to the idea and was instantly addicted. It lifted blame and responsibility, but it was only a comforting cop-out. There is a fence and I do walk it often, but this release gave me back to reality and now I diligently weigh out all possibilities without giving into the infinities behind them waiting to imprison weak minds. No action or thought will ever be perfect because we are imperfect beings, but so long as every action is taken with the greatest intent there is objective evil or “wrong” stickered to it and in simply doing or not doing progress is held as the most important aspect of any single life. You are wrong and you are right. Action is rectified in non-action all the time. Just live and laugh and cry and love. It will never be enough, but we are one.