Delete It All
1:00 - Driving Through Illiteracy
One of the earliest recordings of any TapeLab group, this recording of reLux was captured live, and improvised at a house party in 2019.
The video footage is a nod to the timeless documentation that is Jürgen Henn – 11foot8.com. There is a bridge in Durham, NC that is 11-foot-8 inches tall. There is a bridge between us, but the bridge is a wall above. One thinks the canopy traffic, often if fondly at all. Slowly, too trucks converge, where the ceiling meets the road.
Takes a little off the top. The intersection is a point in time—forward and backward—the bridge above, the wall below. Flowing forms gleaned from the railing roof. Insteadfast, past and presenting an impenetrable membrane before the shearing cleaves the left-behind-debris. This bridge is a troll demanding shrapnel payment for passage.
Each truck a temptress, Iccarus of the road, us above to see as Daedelus does, awaiting like a watch. The viewer's eye, like the film, become transficted fathers of sons soon to set. The bridge burns bright, melts the machines. Calamity of collisions slowly collapse into itself, our predicted fate known only from perfect perch, a futureviewer averse to act.
Ironically, the iron beams above, belie a problem of the past. As we go, growing old in changed chains, the walls between us are but the ceilings, itself a floor for more to stand and stamp and sell.
Construction is construction. Our dreams are trucksattelites sprayed to the curb. Canned confines create and define? Can our dreams be but 11-foot-8?
