news sounds notes visuals events links contact lt



l:   a lie
ll:  caretakers of yearning

All sounds, lyrics, artwork:   Vytenis Eitminavičius
Photos:   rūkana
Translation:   Jurij Dobriakov

Recorded in:   2015-2018
Released: 2018:   Skeldos (SLS-04)

The album is released in an edition of 100 copies, out of which 25 are an exclusive release with a silver print. The cassettes are wrapped in handmade packaging made from fading recycled paper. Each copy comes with a digital download code.


ART edition: ltd. 25
PRICE: 10 Eur (+shipping)

REGULAR edition: ltd. 75
PRICE: 8 Eur (+shipping)

Get your copy / listen:

or write to:


a lie

he pushed the handle down, and the door opened.
and behind it there was another door.
he pushed the handle down, and another door opened.
in this way, he opened a hundred and twenty four doors.
then he grew tired and collapsed.
behind the hundred twenty fourth door there’s a garden
where roses have just bloomed, he thought,
while drowsily dying.
behind the door there was another door.

(Antanas Škėma; 1960)


caretakers of yearning

you opened your tree. strange signs, but there was nothing there.
you descended its rings. strange ornaments in which there was nothing.
laid your head down. new crackles, but nothing moved there.
it kept ringing in your ear, but even in this sound there was absolutely nothing.

you stroked a mosquito as the aspens were strewing earth, as though round the corner.
nothing grew on your hill, which remained your floor.
an ethereal dream of a rustling place stumbles over the night.
yet a feeling reaches you with the glows of angst: the city knows no night.

how you are wading, always straight, always differently, how you are looking for the ever evasive things you gave new names.
what is an island, though in truth a sieve. like colour, although sleep in truth. it shines like rags afloat and swaying in the wind.
is it alive, that which emerges in the drizzle? as suddenly as it is gone – fields you can barely hear.
before your eyes, so barely visible. you believe they are surrounded solely by branches. you’ve called the latter caretakers of yearning.

you opened your tree. strange signs, but there was nothing there.
on your hill, you kept listening to dreams, but nothing was ever close.
in dreams, the caretakers of yearning kept growing distant; you chased them tirelessly, and... when you caught a few, something seemed to stir there.
and something essential was just in front of you. something so essential was there.


...rags moulting and turning silver....     (sls.lV)