Here is a description of all of the songs on the new album:

Eats the Beats: The title of this song just sort of happenned. I had already created the entire song, and I was thinking of a title that captured the essence of the sound and intention. And I think I picked a title that sort of does and sort of does not. As it turns out, this is what the song insisted it be called, despite the fact I thought it sounded silly. All I can picture is some cartoony evil pac-man or something, with big teeth like the Radiohead bear. Oh well. The song is about processing. It's about processing my thoughts, churning them around, chewing them up and spitting them out -- the sensation that you cannot let go of something because it didn't turn out the way you wanted. So I guess the song is about frustration and rumination, like teeth grinding a thought.

Dark Star: This song title came about painfully. The song was complete. It's a hip hop beat, with industrial/ electro noise and melodies. It's a fusion of those two disparate ideas -- the strictly urban, neon, asphalt city sensibility, put up against a more ethereal, brooding and dangerous energy. All I can think of is a dark alley, in some forgotten part of any city, where nobody goes for any good reason. And, looking up at the sky strewn with dark stars we will never see, there's a thought about the light.

Expanse of Space: The title of this song came simply because that was the only thought I could have when describing the sound to myself. It's deep and vast -- a topographical landscape of light and shadow. The title also has a far subtler second meaning, though. When I say "space" to you, two definitions probably enter your mind -- the one I just described (simply a fairly empty volume) and another: space, as in where the rest of the universe is. So this title also describes the expanse of space (in that sense), which describes a paradox: how can something with infinite size get bigger? And if that second meaning is applied to the former, you find questions about the nature of existence, our world, and our experience.

k-quoc: When I was in high school and was starting to get involved with computer programs that have to do with music, one person had recommended the well-known program Cakewalk. I totally misunderstood the point that "cakewalk" is a pretty simple combination of two simple words, and tried as hard as I could to find out about a program called "k-quoc," which is how I imagined this computer program would be spelled. After all, it was supposed to be technical and complicated. This song is about taking something simple and turning it into something difficult. What can I say, it's a talent, albeit frustrating one.

High Marks: The reason this is called High Marks is because it was largely created in the beginning of December. Exam time. That's where the title comes from. But that's not what the song's about. It begins with a high drone, the opposite of an organ tone (it's a musical term). It starts out with some random mechanical noise turned musical sounds. Over it gets laid a slippery static beat, and some pretty cool synth bass lines. It's about things coming together -- a new start, a last look, and, most importantly, those important moments when everything happens and you were caught unaware. Only afterward does it fit, make sense. And it may not sound like it, but this song is also about a rock show.

Deconstructing B139: This is a song about about a place so important that whenever I have a powerful dream, it always takes place there. It's a place where I never lived, but spent a lot of time. And this song is about losing it. The place is right on the beach next to the ocean, a place riddled with memory and metaphor. But this song is a meditation on the ocean, the waves and the currents. The sun and the sand and the breeze. And the times and the people. Like the ocean it goes on and on, never resolving and always resolving, rolling, undulating, clear and impermeable, glistening and silvery. This song is a meditation on the ocean, and you can hear the waves crash and retreat. It's always changing and yet always remains constant.

Killer Tenacity: This song is crazy. Sounds that are constantly clashing and working, constantly moving, constantly competing. It's a song about frustration and how it builds and how it's always complicated. It's about being angry and being sad and then going back to just trying as hard as I can do do too much. It's a jazzy, crazy, frantic shaking, multilayering of drumbeat over drumbeat over drumbeat until they collapse under their own weight. Why is it called Killer Tenacity? Really, I'm not completely sure. It named itself that. Maybe it's becasue getting done what needs to get done will kill you. Or maybe it just takes killer tenacity to get by. Or sometimes it just feels that way.

Radioligand: This song competes with Expanse of Space as being the most freeform, nonmusical "song" I have yet managed to put together. There is little to no form here for over 10 minutes. It starts with one or two samples, and then, periodically, it adds another and another and another and before you know it there are sounds all over the place, and then they gradually fall out until there's nothing left. Almost all of the sonds used here are non-musical. At least in a traditional sense. Nature recordings juxtaposed with electric buzzing, static, backwards noise, random radio, paper crumbling, and synthesized thinder. And that's not even the half of it. The title Radioligand actually I really like. The "radio" part of course is a nod to the radio sounds in the song, but a radioligand gets its name from being radioactive, which this song is to some degree, if you can get that. And there are more reasons, but that leaves the fun out of having you go to the dictionary yourself and speculate.