CalQTeK

New release on all streaming devices!

During a deep transition in our lives after being totally upended, my wife was fiddling around on our piano with an arrangement that called me to write one of my most pround songs.

We obsessively wrote an album's worth of material, which ended up being a calQtek set at the first annual El Gran E Records Showcase in Dallas (which is on YouTube).

This song has two themes. One of which the power of our individual selves to change internally and externally, and all of our change and lives are in that finite amount of time.

I was reading a Pema Chodron book at the time about the Tibetan Book of the Dead, and that by embracing our end and the progression of elements transitioning to our end, we find the whole cycle of life. I embrace it. I do not fear it.

Take it from me, that is the purpose. Birth, Express, love, growth, Death.
As artists, we shine lights on all the nooks amd crannies. We are here and we are gone.

I was born and I will die.

When I die, all of these songs, heard or not, remain to explain one individual amongst countless others who left a mark, a singular tree ring.

Available everywhere now.

APRIL 11th 2026
𝖂𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝕾𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖘 𝕱𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖗 𝕲𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖊

We are proud to release our new batch of songs.

AFFF and I worked so hard on this and we have so much more to come.

Thanks to for mixing and mastering ot beautifully.

To get it 4/11, head to our bandcamp page!

We appreciate all the support and connection with the world we have stumbled into, I know in this world of isolation, its needed.

We hope you vibe it out. Just wait, we have so much more to share.

I feel a swarm of bees stirring in my chest
At any moment a hive will explode into hordes of stingers as
Sirens ring with wings pulsating
Helicoptering above
A Dive bomb about to french kiss its target
With lobster claws
I try to reel what was unleashed
Picking each one like an acorn tree hanging over my Pop Pop's rusty gutters
Each petrified crunchy carcass crawling over chapped bloody lips
Oh, how I swallow them whole
Devour their life force
Pulsating gulps go down into my swollen esophagus
Every inch an endless fencing pinch
Awareness of forehead split wide open
Blood shot, rage awoken
But closing my eye lashes, becomes aside
A Little Shop of Horrors with
Venus fly traps
Bustling ferocity boiling volcanic
Knap sacks
Of organs and intestines
Slithering around
Inside me
Bees baked into its cancer

After this dance of sorts and the ash has settled upon Mt Doom

My hive has gone good quiet

Contemplating the earth shattering
Insanity and rapture

Like Renaissance paintings

The songs of birds echo into
My buzzing ears
The lake of dead hornets
Floating in oceans of stale beers
The wind is whipping up leaves and mosquitos
Blood splattered torpedoes
Contemplative resilience
Meditating in cacophony
Symphonies of melancholy
A stillness shadow crawls upon its horizons
A fish emerges
casts its tongue to gulp its morsel
And all is seemingly serene

Except for the possibilities
Of approach and reaction

The balance hyperventilating
By a pattern of inaction and reanimation

The monster is alive
And I am dead
from the anaphylaxis
Of a furious bee hive

12/12/25