Lunar Affair

by Monarcadia

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I deliberately aimed to break from the electropop style of my previous album "Don't, Don't" ( and alienate my audience from the first track. I wanted to make it clear that I'm not a pop musician, and intentionally allowed the recordings to remain unpolished; I'm interested in creating honest music that I find interesting and different from anything else I've ever heard.

Lunar Affair emerged from a series of post-midnight recordings I had made between Las Vegas and St. Louis--I lived in both places in 2013. I would stay up all night recording, usually until/past sunrise. I have always felt some kind of deep connection with night and especially the moon. Something about night simultaneously energizes and relaxes me; I feel centered and lucid in the late night and do most of my creative work when most people are asleep. In St. Louis in the latter half of 2013, it started to feel like some kind of secret, like an affair I was having with the moon. I keep my work confidential until I'm ready to release it; accordingly, no one really knew what I was up to, and I prefer it that way until I feel that I have material I believe is worth sharing.

While I do not want to expose every detail of what each song is "about" (some of this has to be open for you to discover your own meaning), here are a few notes:

"I'll Show You Where It Lurks" is a tone poem that, through the sonic conjuring of a fantastical visual atmosphere, beckons the listener into whatever monstrous region of the brain hosts depression.

"Moondance Make Up!" has a title inspired by Sailor Moon's transformation exclamation (I'm an superfan). I actually would go out and dance in the street in St. Louis really late at night when no one was awake or around. In Chinese and Japanese folklore, the "red string of fate" would connect two destined lovers. Something to consider.

"Crepúsculo" is Spanish for "twilight" (not THAT Twilight, Stephanie Meyer fans) and I feel is both hopeful and melancholic, like the time just before sunrise when the night must regretfully end. I think of it as both an ode to that time and an effort to represent that moment and its attendant emotions musically.

"The Phone" was made with the iKaossilator app and my guitar and voice. Sucks when someone you love doesn't call you back.

"You're My Nightmare," lyrically, concerns the same person and love that my whole Don't, Don't album was about and for. I see it as the darker side of Don't, Don't. If there's any narrative going through my work at all, you should find some of the more torturous moments within this song, though they may not sound that way at first. This seems to me to be the emotional center of Lunar Affair. It's meant to be an acousmatic recording but I would love to play the whole thing live one day.

"Difficult Confessor 1+2": sometimes it's easier to say what's on your mind through music alone. There isn't an exact "confession" per se; sometimes vocalization is ineffectual and also just irrelevant. I can also be pretty quiet in person and I consider myself private about a lot, unless we're close of course. I improvised the whole recording while trying to keep those things in mind, literally trying to speak off-the-cuff through the music. Before releasing this I cut the recording in half because the sections seemed distinct enough for that to make sense.

"Lightbringer" is for someone I met in St. Louis who became extremely important to me and a kind of spiritual guide. I learned a great deal from this person and she helped me discover my inner peace, among many other life lessons that completely changed me for the better. She was a sun person, and I a moony. Nevertheless, I did actually start calling her "Lightbringer" toward the end of my time in STL. I'll never forget you, T.
Eternal gratitude and love to you.

"G0dfxck SL0p 4 BrechhFa$$" is the first of what will hopefully be a future series of tracks that combine my poetry with music in such a way that the two complement each other. I wrote the poem, wrote the music to highlight the poem's tone and represent some of the thematic content, and then read the poem over the music. Certain performative elements like screaming, I feel, give the poem new life that would be impossible as mere text on a page. I guess you could think of this as a kind of performance poem.


released February 21, 2014

All sounds created, instruments played, lines written, and lyrics sung by Monarcadia (Alaric W. Lopez).

All songs produced in full by Monarcadia (Alaric W. Lopez).

I do not use DAWs for the construction of any sounds. Through a combination of sampler (loaded with sounds I've made from scratch), guitar, vocals, effects pedals, synth, and anything else nearby that produces sound, I construct what you hear. I make my own sounds and then tinker with them to build songs.




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Track Name: I'll Show You Where It Lurks...
Circumstance has met you.
Circle, hello.

Where have you gone?
Stand tall.
Fine, don't say.
I'm losing.
I'm failing.

You're the pro.
You won.
You monster.
Track Name: Moondance Make Up!
Here in this town
I go dancing in the park.

I go out at night.
See the red strings in the air?
I don't care.
I walk away.
It's simple;
come on, everybody weep.

Do you say anything?
I don't want you to go.
I can't say anything.
I can't communicate the ratio
of a bird factory.

"I get away,"
I know you'd say.

Here in this town I go dancing
the night away every night.
And here we are.
It's so simple to disguise every trouble.

Here in this town
I go dancing in the park.
Track Name: The Phone
I say,
"Will you walk away with me?"
I say, anyway,
"Will you walk with me?"

I'm deep in all my plans
around every one of these.
I'm making all of these plans around
every time you don't call me.
Every night you leave me hanging on the telephone.

When it comes today I'll wait, and I do
anyway, anywho.

When it comes today I'll say,
"Anyway, anywhere."
Anywhere, anyway...
I need some words.
Track Name: You're My Nightmare
I can't decide
which one to carry on.
Which one to carry on?

I can't decide anymore
who finally found you.

Silent pillow,
why me?
How come?

Why lay a peril,
silent pillow?

I get a little
knotted, pillow.
I can't, pillow.
I can't decide.
Everything I've tried died.
No more missing you.
Everyone could never tend to you.
Everything you say:
the words are paper cuts on your face.
Every little blind eye
turns a little every way that it could.
Anyway that it goes,
I'm touching you.
It's watching you.

I say, "Why?"
I say, "Why say?"
"I can't," I say.

I say to you inside the misty mountaintop, "Um."
I see you in the misty mountaintop.
I see you everywhere I go.
Your face in the covers--
I want to know what's real.
I can't see everything.

Everything ok. Know the way.
I don't want a yesterday, another "I love her."
Everything part of me yesterday:
everything I would be today.

Everything, I can see the way:
everything I can be today.
I can't remember you.
I can't be a member of you anymore.

Saddened day. Certain death. Saturday.
Look on.

Here come tomorrow.

Ok, ok...
Track Name: Lightbringer
The moon: a source of energy.
The moon: a force of light
bringing love through light.
Bring your love to me tonight.
Bring your love through the moonlight.

I call you Lightbringer.
Walking in the light.
I call you, Lightbringer.
Angels wear a normal face.

I join the moon at midnight
--my guide through my cold, dark mind.
I wonder do daywalkers
know "real" like I do?

I call you Lightbringer.
Warm in every way.
I call you, Lightbringer.
Angels wear a normal face.
I call you Lightbringer.

The moon: a source of energy.
You move a force of light.
Bring love through light.
Bring love through light, Lightbringer.
Track Name: He Say No Buddy Call
In a sad day.
Been a sad day.
Went to the…. um.

And it's Saturday.
Been a sad day.
When you love,
go away.


Weekends are my days
in February morning haze,
and I don't have to write.
There was a fate;
it wasn't mine,
and it's on its own.
The lovey-dovey love songs are gone.

And it's Saturday.
Been a sad day.
When you love…

In a sad day.
Been a sad day.
And it's Saturday
and it's Saturday.

Won't go out on Saturday.
It's Saturday.
Won't go out on Saturday
on a sad day.

And it's Saturday.
Been a sad day.
When you love….
Track Name: Forget Their Bodies
My whole life has been a bore.
Did they forget their bodies on the river?

My whole life has been a lonely one.
Did they treat their children well
like they were taught to?

When I leave everything I know
will you say anything you are?

Standing beneath the trees,
staring at peoples in the clouds.
You invent the creatures in the foreground.

Put 'em on display.
Let them walk off the page.
Every little ant
crawling just to be what it can't.

Be what it ______.
Track Name: G0dfxck SL0p 4 BrechhFa$$
Ash in my cereal. Bugs in my hair. Her love sauce is crusting all over me, and I'm tired of hearing about the signs, tired of hearing about all the signs that people see pointing every which way; I wish some of them would point at me. I spew poetic-sounding slop and you call it breakfast. To think that God is a "where," not a he/it/heshe/they/she/what/he/who/am/is/what/where/why, for places can be any color. I paint mine to remember that you're only a prisoner if you have a reason to go outside. Maybe do you want to go outside? I never want to go outside. I just want to stay in all day and rot in the cereal I've been eating since day 1.

Go, far away. Go far and pray. Keep praying. Keep muttering. Keep stuttering. Keep saying all the stupid little things that you say to yourself to keep you up at night and keep you going through the day. I only have one word of advice, and that is: to be "cautious"--which is more than just a word--but walk in like you own the place. Be cautious, but walk in like you own the you own it, but you think that everybody is trying to kill you.


It's cool, I know you're all ashamed of me. I know you want what I can't give because I'm so afraid of things like pain and persecution. I've been using since I turned 16 to medicate this thick screen I put between people and me: sheens of smoke to make the daunted choke and back away, and forget ME, but I'm like everyone else, I mean I'm a little hedgehog trying to navigate a balance between alien and real talk, real talk. Real talk. Real talk, real talk, real talk…. Real. Talk.


And you get more and more disgusting every day--every mirror cracked and coddling your face, mocking you and all your loves that call it truth. All these pretty little doves are calling you, calling you, calling you calling you calling you calling you calling you calling you calling you calling you go go go go go slow slow slow slow slow go go go they're calling you calling you calling you go go go go go calling you calling you calling you calling you. I'm tired and cranky, my body feels like giblets matte gnashed by beastly maw, my selfhood dangling from a snarl. pure allegory of a bloodletting, sheer medicinal vocab. Muscle sinews backstop to point zero. Zero. Zero, they're calling you. Zero. They're calling you and they're back. They're always back. They hide in your brain. They jump out and they poison your cereal. You get excited by the lights. The still orange streetlight pixellated by its dispersal in the water. Like some old Atari game, a Vegas marquee like lights on a sign from the side. You spit in the water--spit in the water--and then you drink the water. Sleep all the way. Sleep all the way. Sleep.