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'UnAbleTo', David Thomas Broughton's first effort since 2011's Outbreeding, blends his distinctively rich baritone and folk sensibilities with cut up dance beats and harsh noise loops, making an album completely different from anything that's come before.

A jumble of electronic samples, feedback mishaps and manipulations, mixed with folk songs. All played into the pin mic of a Macbook, colliding on Ableton Live in haphazard and randomised arrangements. A study in seeing what happens. Loops phase, falling in and falling out, locking into ambient sprawl or cutting into manipulated noise.

The lush and strange first single is "Problems", which is as much folk-pop genius as it is a propaganda piece for a new - as yet, unknown and undefined - type of faith. youtu.be/bRsAfPjdg4E

In the physical realm, UnAbleTo is limited to 100 hand-numbered cassette tapes, while also existing perpetually in the digital realm, here provided as two tracks of side A (Untitled 280710, Untitled 3, Salvation, Soil of War, Problems, Faith in Women) and side B (Take the Edge Off, Martha, Rather Forgive).

To ORDER YOUR CASSETTE visit: antiquatedfuture.bandcamp.com/album/unableto


released October 29, 2013

Songs and music by David Thomas Broughton
Mastered by Evan Hashi

To ORDER YOUR CASSETTE visit: antiquatedfuture.bandcamp.com/album/unableto



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David Thomas Broughton UK

Acclaimed live performer. Creating poignant endurance tests for his audiences. Recordings exploring the awkwardness of human existence.


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Track Name: Side A
I found no salvation in either the left or the right, only sympathy for the struggle I've been through
No structure to build beliefs on, no sense of reliability, only a deep understanding of what i'm never going to achieve
Pathetically I cling to this guff and unwillingly sob
Cling to the old way of living while embracing a new kind of approach in memory of the old world you revive a laughter and shred of respect,
but the darkness is upon us.
I proudly defecated on all the careful construction I had prepared a whole life in the making
Well-wishers are not welcome
I have actually destroyed a perfectly functional machine
Oh shit!
And the constant crowing fails to lift any sense of urgency
I remain prostrate and swaddled

Recall crag-tops and outcrops grazing horizon
Sooted stone houses and steep valley sides
A babbling Calder cuts its old crooked line
Recalling these things under flashing french skies
Flowers of enemy fire over head
Friends and comrades twisted and dead
Inextricably tied to dark pennine moors
A man starts to grow in the soil of war

The rumble in our bellies belies a longing
In strictness I found nothing but strictness
In hate I found so much relief
In problems I found problems
Ignorance is your salvation
I have not coped
I have coped a little
or I always seem to cope
I have not changed
I have changed a little
or I always seem to have changed

In squares I lost my faith in women, waiting for all kinds of meeting
In gardens of spring scent fulfilling weep for loss of chances fleeting
Friends can remain friends as long as you don't attempt to get in touch
The depths grow deeper
Stop your moping lazy fucker
Happiness a concept meant to scupper
The brains potential yours to bugger
Should it be known it was lost to a lover?
While said friends plunder flippancy i was working for a steady wage
Although we struck up conversation i can relate to nothing you say
With cracking smile and crossed wires which give away my age
Stop your moping lazy fucker
Happiness a concept meant to scupper
The brains potential yours to bugger
Should it be known it was lost to a lover?
Track Name: Side B
Took my hand in it's clenched fist walked me up to
your illustration of an overwhelming vista
Takes the edge of the words
that you were about to say
Throw your love to the cursing winds and piss the time up the wall
Soon we will pass away and what then?

She was my Martha, my Alice, and my Kathleen
A rugged redemption had rose up in me
Alas, I was doomed from the outset
It starts at her house and takes me into town
I crumpled the paper on which I'd writ it down
The work of some prattish imposter
I was smitten for sure, did I think that aloud?
T'was insufferable, crushing and embarrassing now
You know that she turned out to be gay
Grabbing my tackle and take the bus into town
Grapple with bulls horns and fail to come down
In me there was nowt but a weakling
It's life as I know it and it's not so great
I struggle to work and I procrastinate
And now the train it is leaving