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WRONG REVOLUTION and The Necrophile Hummingbird Netlabel present Neverland by rADio eNd.

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This time, rADio eNd is only Pete Hope and Ed End.
The improvisational base was recorded on May 1st, 2024, in the Cave Haven,
upgraded next with instruments and lyrics by Pete.

RATTLING MY BLUE HAND
rattling my blue hand
taking the middle right out
of your devalued day
make a prison
in your image
print it on a shirt
you can sell yourself
you can tell yourself
you need to wear your hair shirt every day
money for something i don’t have
money makes the world go round to their neighbours
with a knife – with a can full of acid
with a holiday brochure
with a test strip that measures
the paranoia in your saliva
get a new work shirt
get a new clay wife
break the mould
get the gold
buy back all that shit you sold
only to find out
you were well and truly ripped off by yourself
honey drips
you need to wear your hair shirt every day
rattling my blue hand

COLLAPSING PULSE ON TRUE TELEVISION
plaiting thumbnails
a keen eye
floral tributes to falling soldiers
and swollen women
thick of sleeve
real and true – real and true
small movements become giants
the telling of
both heat and cold
(real and true)
some jagged expanse
a sweeping scrape
lifting the layer
hipped hug
slinked in a villain head
automatic mind
true television
i’ve been collecting for a wall
reshaping in sight
of snow caps
sin-tax
eye for eye

REAL GRAS IN YOUR SKIN
right off – written off
right off – written off
clothed in cow hide
who says – who said yes
who says – who said yes
little busy crows
with fish-hooks for toes
am i real? – am i unreasonable?
just because
am i real? – real unreasonable
tipped off – ripped right off
no place like home
worked out – works right out
working out – get a thicker skin
you need to fight – fight through
fight off today
chose a little sweetness from the plate
chose a little sweetness from the plate
share it
create a story – create a story
rub it into your skin – rub it into your skin
stained red
parallel and running wild
glue back your mind – am i real?
trash deal – am i real?
am i unreasonable?
here comes the crash
too much passion
it’s so old fashioned
right off – written off
worked out – working out
rub it into your skin – rub it into your skin
lip sneers – as if to say
who are you, anyway?
am i real?

Though some albums like Arzak II and Mantra Wave remain not release free, this is the very last rADio eNd album. Sometimes, things must die for the void to be felt — and for you to wish to fill it with your own dreams.
rADio eNd was like a giant telescope aimed at life on Earth.
Uncentered art digging into the universal disaster, seeking survivors, glimpsing humans still alive among the ruins. Humanity lost in a senseless world.

Why label any utopia as Never-Neverland?
They let you dream ambitiously, but children’s reverie is banned.
Maybe the meaning must be sought in daily life —
in the corruption of your child-soul,
in dreams cut away to bonsai your mind
so it fits into tiny boxes called prisons/homes/comfort/habits.

Adults teach us fear.
Adults teach us the self-mutilation of constant lying.
They use authority to deny autonomy.
Pretending to be “parents” when being only self-centered people who care more about their own pleasure than anything else.
Pleasure is good — but not that kind of artificial, consumerist pleasure :
false needs, real illusions —
instead of raw perception, instead of meals rooted in the living soil.

Not this endless hunger for more, instead of a search for balance.
They teach us to obey their unreal storytelling —
Should I call it horror tales disguised as fairy tales?

Sell your life-time to capital.
And teach your children to sell theirs.

Technology hides that it’s global slavery.
When a rich man uses a computer or an AI, he doesn’t save time —
he steals the life-time of poor people in less “fortunate” lands, condemned to fuel it.

Alike capitalism pretending to be the solution when in reality it’s the problem.
They pretend to be models —
but they are the trap, the embodiment of the sick old world.

And when children grow older and try to speak truth,
adults label it adolescence —
to sweep the truth under the rug.

Stuck in loops.
While they drain our energy.
Artificial paradises flavour sticking to everything.

Something is rotten.
The Earth has become a giant supermarket.
Client souls arranged in aisles.
Insane masters are here to pick our children,
eating, fucking, doping, killing, without limits —
amongst the ruins of a dying world like if it was just a game.

Everybody knows… and denies.
We should not let this happen.
Everybody knows… and still too many want their slice of the deadly cake.

When imbalance lasts too long, it always collapses.

There are no more islands left.
And as they destroy them all,
they try to erase their very memory.

No more children — only future customers.
Like all other species, everything must be part of this game.
Worshiping their god with a thousand masks.

It’s a war against everything wild and alive.
Xenophobia rules the planet.
They turn off the lights with their weapons of mass destruction.

This album is dedicated to the victims of Israel.
This must be said clearly:
it’s not only Benjamin Netanyahu —
it’s Zionism itself responsible for the genocide in Gaza.
And perhaps the worst is not only the mass death,
but that so many people know —
watch —
and do nothing to stop it.
That they know but do like if nothing happens.

A View from Ed End.

So many days have opened their wounds in front of my eyes
that I can’t tell anymore
if this is just an echo of a long-forgotten thought.

But when I listen to this album,
it feels like watching the light of a distant star:
so far away that by the time her light reaches me, she’s already gone.

That’s it.
Even though the base was recorded last year and later upgraded by Pete,
it comes from a place that no longer exists.

These days, it’s hard to speak without a bitter aftertaste.
I keep moving forward, facing whatever comes —
I don’t look back.
because I feel that there’s no way back.

And still I know:
Neverland isn’t in front of me.
The way this journey changes me inside is a reality swap leading to this place.

I erase the white chalk from the blackboard
and start drawing a new crazy dream,
making room for my sound-friends.

No matter what’s lost in the past —
it’s long gone.

rADio eNd had a beginning, and it had an end.
It was alive.
Now we change vehicles.
It seems for us, after this, there is no more moniker.
We become a chain of names, DNA.

Never give up.
That’s exactly it — Pete’s words.
Mind-traveller, drawing maps like paintings,
blending dreams and realities.

I’ll never give up
until everyone has found his own way
to break free from the pattern, the norm.

We mutate, we become everything —
because when you never give up,
you shed your skin,
cast it into oblivion,
the old ceremony, again and again:
a new life after another life,
inside a mind in free fall —
into creation.