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Songs From The Land

by Luis Mojica

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    Get all 6 Luis Mojica releases available on Bandcamp and save 50%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Songs From The Land, How A Stranger Is Made, Queen Song (shattered mirror mix), Wholesome (2016), The Man Who Fell In Love With The Man Who Fell In Love With The Moon (2015), and Anaesthesia (2013). , and , .

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  • Songs From The Land (Vinyl)
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    12" vinyl with inner sleeve artwork, lyrics, and credits. You will also get a digital download of the album.

    *Because of covid, this physical album will not be ready to ship until March 2022. You can stream or download it until then.

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1.
We know how the song goes, But we cannot hear it, We know from where the river flows, And we will move there yet. We'll roam up the northbound road, Where fertile mountains may dance for us, We'll make our home on the old Platte Clove, Where running waters may answer us. Some say that the mountain range, Is the spine of the back of the land, So we give praise to the ancient snakes, To keep that creature peacefully sleeping. Cause we know how the song goes, And it is there where we can hear it, We know the trees don't care, That we can't sing for shit. We know, They won't. We know.
2.
Colonized 04:04
I've been colonized for far too long, How will I ever find my home? I've been colonized for far too long, How will I ever find that ohm? Ohm! The old dirt road is the only road I've known, Trying hard to make my way back home, The mountains are calling as the fertile Earth unfolds, I can almost hear that ancient ohm. Ohm! These streets are full of people celebrating palm machines, I rather lay unclad in fields of green, Where the pine hill breathes onto my bones and through my toes, Breathe on me that sacred sound of ohm. Ohm! I'll make my escape from streets of waste and clouds of smoke, To rocky hills where mullein grows in droves, Where the Platte Clove sweetly flows between the devil's clove, Delivering the smell of mountain rose. It is there where I begin to find my home, And it is there where I begin to chant and moan. Ohm! Because I've been colonized for far too long, I didn't think I'd ever find my home. Yes I had once been colonized but now I'm free to roam, I'm free to throw off my dirty clothes. And drown my stark white hips into stream foam, And press my sun-kissed lips to sacred stone, To taste the trail my ancestors once roamed, Then fall into the Earth to howl and moan. Ohm!
3.
All In Awe 04:08
I saw a sailor hawking over thee, I saw a gull squawking out to sea, I found the healer and the healer he found me, I saw a dealer and the dealer looked like me. But all and all, All in awe. I saw a red light swinging in the breeze, I saw a bag swimming through the trees, I saw a bag woman dancing to the beat, In broken clothes and teeth, Her breasts exposed to be, Molested by the breeze. And the wind with its vibration, It delivered, Her disease. To the clean white skull, Of the European photographer, Who documents her sacred dance, Like some tourist anthropologist. Apathetic, unapologetic, As her brown breast spills, From her threadbare shirt, Defeated by her girth, As she sang the gospel. Jesus loves me, This I know, Cause the bible tells me so, Jesus loves me, This is true, Hallelujah! And then the gaping mouth of his shutter, Stole her broken teeth, Yet in the hat of the better dressed man, Lay European money, All who ignore her, Are downwind of her breeze, And as that holy vibe, Washed their sanitized thighs, In street sister's gangrene. I just stood there and stared all in awe. (The autoharp vibrates, The underground train vibrates, The wind vibrates, The vibe is always moving and can't commit no crime, Even as it touches the woman and the children at the same time, With the same unwashed hand, All of us are downwind! The rapist vibrates as the saint vibrates, The dying man vibrates as the newborn vibrates, The eardrum vibrates when the music is bad, The eardrum vibrates when the music is good)
4.
Mountains 05:23
Take me up to the long gone mountains, Beam me up, For I have been colonized for far too long, Beam me up. Take me up to the long gone river, Let it wash off, The greedy, filthy city, I'll leave a mile of piss. Take me up to the long gone mountains, Beam me up, Beam me up.
5.
I've been waiting for you for so long, I had once been wandering their streets, Dancing with that strange disease, Like the holy Kaveri, They cleansed and nourished me, Inching toward my death, In the warm dark flesh, Of some stranger's tongue and cheek. I've been waiting for you for an awfully long time, Who would have guessed or knew, That I would find you in Brooklyn Heights, You from East New York, My own loft 10 blocks west of Bed Stuy, We were two Witches who would together brew up, The same spell of strange delights. I've been waiting for you for so long, Where have you been hiding? I often thinking of you, Whenever I see two black crows shining, And flying, And eating, And cawing, And fighting, I know as well as you know, That we're just two black crow aliens in hiding. I've been waiting for you, Have you too been idling? For a young man like me, Who for the love of the Earth keeps fighting, I love when your warm back, Presses against my sex beneath the sheets, Who would have known that some Witch like you, Could have saved me from strange disease?
6.
White Lies 04:17
He came from the East, With white eyes, And with those pure eyes, He spoke white lies. He came from the West, Bearing teeth white, And with that beautiful smile, He told white lies. They both stood before us, Then we were called in, Then we cast the vote, To slay the throat, Of someone else's child, Or our own, And you know, One of them did win. Well I've seen my own brothers, Fighting to starve the beast, And I've seen those same brothers, Walking and talking in their sleep, Bringing it more to eat. Because that beast, It is a shape shifter, Of color, sex and size, It is singing hope and love, A vulture cloaked inside the body of a dove, In a sky of white lies. Well the Witches, Once healed the sick with herbs, And their toiled bodies did rise, Until the war lord said, "Feed them plastic bread, Give them pills filled with lead, Make the forest a dread, Stuff their warm hearts and heads, With white lies!".
7.
Call In 02:15
Calling from the mountains, A black crow through its beak, It caws in the East. Calling from the mountains, A hearth inside a house, It calls in the South. Calling from the mountains, A creek below sunset, It calls in the West. Calling from the mountains, Black bear do come forth, With your magic, As we call in the North. Black crow feather, Black snake skin, Black cold water, Black bear magic.
8.
I was afraid of my own love, So I pushed it all into the Earth, Into her gaping mouth my body flowed out, It hit the ground with a thud and turned the dirt in mud, It turned the water to wine and all the seeds into vines. They climbed up and grew then wrapped, Along the strong hard body of Pine, Till every single cone broke free to explode into tiny Pine trees, An avalanche of nectar flowed, Like the elephant strong and slow, Like the time and patience it takes for a seed to create a tree. They may lay dormant for years, Aborted onto concrete fields, Then confined to a dark cold thigh, For fear of what it might yield. They say that real men smell like Pine, Or the rough, tough scent of hide, But in the corner of every Moon Man's room, You'll find the smell of rusty perfume. Still deep down inside, Every man's Moonlight thrives, And casts its glow on the child who knows, Not to hide from its light. Cause even in high heels, Or big strong boots of steel, You cannot hide from the Moon, Or the crow who sings the truth. The dark closet of magic, Invokes only the fantastic, Heal your blackbird cawing, And feel your pine cone falling. Fall, For you, For you, Fall.
9.
Black Magick 05:26
Hard silicone flying out of town, Hits the wild barred owl, It's Fall, And it's falling like a leaf, Who do those black crows think they are, To be cawing at this tragedy? Do they laugh or do they cry? With so much black magick, It's hard not to go blind. I follow up the Platte Clove hill, The mountains are so black and still, It's Fall, And it's falling like a leaf, Into the cold Plattekill creek, You can almost feel it in the air, Death is everywhere. Do I laugh or do I cry? When so much black magick, Can force you to go blind. Falling like the leaves that white barred owl, Hits the cold black street while the Fall winds howl, Only to be picked up then dismantled. By the Cherokee Two-Spirit man, Who brings its wings to me, Then he/they up and flew away. I promise to save your white barred wings, I'll resurrect them some place to sing, Behind my ears, So that I may always hear them. Walk the Platte Clove, With your eyes closed, Don't you fear the night, The black magick, Can consume you, Even in the light!
10.
Black Bear 01:05
You know those days on the mountain? When you feel the bear but don't see the bear? Or those days in the garden? When you feel the snakes but don't see the snakes? Well I walked up the mountain this morning, And I felt the Spirit of the black bear calling, Then right before my eyes, Beneath the morning sunrise, A black bear.

about

This record was written between 2011 - 2013, as I was moving from Brooklyn to Woodstock, NY. The city, once a source of unending life force and inspiration, was becoming very dim to me. My body wanted out. I was called to the mountains of Woodstock, NY and these songs were whispers of the land that I found myself writing on the guitar. Now it's 2021 and these songs are more current than ever. The messages of restoring balance in ourselves, decolonization, and communing with the Earth have become more clear now than when I originally wrote them. I live in the glorious Catskills, once home to the Esopus people. These ancestors are the original stewards of this land. I have found that, in the solitude and silence of nature, the wisdom of the land speaks itself to us quite directly. These songs record that sacred journey for me. From the suburbs, to the city, and to the mountains that I call home. My sexuality, my identity, my health, my culture - all the answers and clarity I ever needed came from sitting with myself in nature. I hope this record creates the same safe space for you that it did for me, and allows you to journey into somewhere that is ancient, timeless, and nourishing.

credits

released September 17, 2021

Production, mixing, mastering, guitars, and percussion by Evan Glenn Adams.
Co-produced, written, & all vocals performed by Luis Mojica.
Auto harp on track 3 by Luis Mojica.
Flutes on tracks 4 & 9 by Anders Bostrom.
Harp on tracks 1, 3, & 9 by Elizabeth Clark.
Cello on tracks 3, 4, 7 & 9 by Mark Ettinger.
Cello on track 10 by Sister Ursuline.
Front cover by Ella Christensen.
Back cover by Evan Glenn Adams.

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Luis Mojica Woodstock, New York

"From chamber pop to indie to a quasi-baroque style all bundled within the mind of a genius"

- Jammerzine

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