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The Negative Space

by Whale House

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06:12
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04:16
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03:26
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04:46

about

Formed by Clayton Brice and Caleb Price in 2009, this is Whale House’s first EP to feature drummer Christopher Dunn. As a result, The Negative Space is their most dynamic work to date. With catchy melodies, driving rhythms, and lyrics that are as expressive as they are mysterious, plumbing the depths of your psyche has never sounded so good.

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released June 12, 2015

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about

Whale House Eau Claire, Wisconsin

Rock Band
Our music is often described as a sublime blend of Noise & Melody.
Est. 2009

Booking/Inquires:
theband@whalehousemusic.com

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Track Name: Hour Glass
We could be
Made right
Cleaned up
Set in the sun, the sun

When it came
Didn't last
Fell through
The hourglass, the hourglass

When it came
Fell down

When it came
Fell through
The Hourglass

Must be like a bird in flight
The short time we have while we're right
Much to undo much to be done
In our brief stint set in the sun

Must be like a bird in flight
The short time we have while we're right
Much to undo much to be done
In our brief stint set in the sun
We can't fall the first time that it turns

This time this time this time
Could be could be right
This time this time this time
Could be could be right

In the hourglass, the hourglass

When it came
Fell through the hourglass
Track Name: Smoke Signals
Smoke rings in my mind
Happens all the time

Smoke signals eclipse the sky
From a distant tribe

Smoke rings in my dreams
Nothing is what seems

Smoke rings tell me why
A transcendental high

Over an ocean
Somewhere in the distance

Black flowers crystalize
Bright morning sunshine

Day and night
Night and day

Fluorescent Highways
Led us astray

Smoke signals
Eclipse the sky
Tell me why
Track Name: Seance
Went Outside
Rolled Around
In the Long Grass
Tick Latched On

Purse Your Lips Slip Into Place
Clap Off the Light
Waft Smoking Cedar and Some Sacramental Spice

Came Inside
Felt Around
Found the Black Dot
Left it On

Purse Your Lips Slip Into Place
Clap Off the Light Waft Smoking Cedar and Some Sacramental Spice

A Sound Can Bring the Devil
A Whistle Or a Prayer
It's Still Right Here Amongst the Halls, Walls, Toilets and Television Sets

Purse Your Lips Slip Into Place
Clap Off the Lights
Waft Smoking Cedar and Some Sacramental Spice

Let the Melody Rise
A Buzz Between Your Lips
And Two Red Eyes in the Dark

Let it Rise
Track Name: Dark Prelude
Alone on the highway, pitch-black and headlights dying. Following the weak glint of the centerline. A pale red vein cutting jagged through the sky. Trees without leaves. Driving, cutting the cold, the silence, you see a flame on a hill up ahead to the southwest, a bright orange teardrop, small, like you could wipe it off the windshield with you thumb. Clouds move in, the dark gets darker. You drive until the fire is directly to your right. It’s somewhat bigger now.

Standing on the shoulder the car is off, no shelter now just another piece of the night. Without light, shades of gray begin to distinguish themselves. The night opens up to you, just as you’ve opened yourself up to it.

There is a frontage road, off of that a smaller road leading up a hill. Snow is falling now, lightly filling in the footsteps that lead from the car to the hill.

Ancient peoples would look at a hill from a distance and see the head of a giant, or a god peeking over the horizon. If that looming, forested extrusion of white is a head than that flame burning near its crest is an eye. It winks lazily at the night, wise to its dodgy promises of endless mystery, immune to its syrupy inducements to sleep, in utter insolent defiance of all its power.

The night. From beside the burning farmhouse, you look out into it, and it looks back into you.
Track Name: Dark Ritual
An echo is living
Meanwhile the day is slipping
This suffering cannot be replaced

Outside the seas are changing
The weather lifts and you're an angel
Always a survivor in my dreams
Come get a little closer
And there you were and there she was

No one ever could change the wind like you did

Come summon diamond raindrops
Train tracks constellations
Match sticks piled and stacked to the sky
A dark ritual blanket underneath
A sacred pyramid
One history, one life to lead

No one ever could change the wind like you did
We are woven together with silver feathers