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1. |
Talkers
03:39
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In the darkened halls of the angelic infirmary,
I found a name for every uncreated creature.
In the shining halls of the Islamic library,
a young boy finds his name and pushes to the sky.
Talkers keep on saying things like, “You’ll be alright.”
Talkers keep on saying things like, “Praise nature”
and I’ve been shouting out, “I have new words.”
Talkers keep on saying things like, “You’re falling apart.”
In the bowels of the hall of records north of the city
lie signs and symbols waiting to be assigned.
There are names I thought of long ago, before I learned to crawl,
names I want to call you by, and names for God.
Talkers keep on saying things like, “You’ll be alright.”
Talkers keep on saying things like, “Praise nature”
and I’ve been shouting, “I have new words.”
Talkers keep on saying things like, “You’re falling apart.”
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2. |
Accountant's Dream
03:35
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Up in the calloused skyway I listen for grinding gears go by my way.
I have a dedicated line.
And in the back room, bleeding, I, unexpected, find, in piles,
old machines waiting to expire.
An accountant’s dream of flesh and fire.
I’m calling to get money wired.
Years on, and you hum another’s love song,
thinking I wouldn’t notice, but I noticed.
Love and loss lie at my side in the backyard grass
where I lose my eyes as airships go by.
Accountants dream of flesh and fire
while I’m calling to get money wired.
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3. |
Cop Song
03:44
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Cop looks like he has seen a ghost. My hands keep pulling words from air.
I keep on staring at his hip. I keep missing what he’s saying.
I stashed what I had. They can’t put me away.
My real name wouldn’t help anyway.
Then back to her uncle’s house. He keeps his damn hands to himself.
We tell him all about the barn. He won’t say a word.
I fix the sink. You know, he was in the war. She’s off counting change. He’s never short.
Gas burns like holy teenage fire. I’ve never seen something so big.
That barn was waiting for us all along, like Uncle waited for her.
For days I smelled like smoke, days away from home.
I can look them in the eye. I’m learning to be kind.
Our white shadows in the ash on the snow.
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4. |
Dancing With My Brother
02:33
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I am dancing.
I am dancing with my brother; we are punching at the air.
My blood is hot knives.
My saliva tastes metallic, like the barrel of a gun.
We are wolf boys.
We are skinless and eternal as we fight against the wake.
I’m my brother’s snakeskin motherfucker,
And we are blood.
There’s no horizon.
There’s no dawn to burn off nightmares.
There’s no blinking sleep from our eyes.
My lip is split.
There are no city things to say in this bloodthirsty embrace.
I’m my brother’s snakeskin motherfucker,
And we are blood.
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5. |
Coffee
02:36
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She said, “I ain’t been without a man since I was a little girl of thirteen,
And now’s my chance to find out who I am without a man.”
I said, “Darling, I know who you are, and who you are’s looking better every day now,
And who you are’s the girl I’d like to make the coffee for each morning.”
She said, “Coffee’s mighty fine and good, and you can put a pot on while we’re talking,
But these days I wake up fine without your kind, I wake up fine without your kind these days.”
I said, “Darling, I’ll be waiting here until these days are through, and then I’ll wait some more,
’cause my heart cares not for reason, rhyme, length of time or breadth of highway.”
She said, “Don’t let me catch you waiting boy, ’cause I ain’t waiting for the likes of you now.
I pass through the likes of you like water through the grinds, and I come out the other side strong but bitter.”
I said, “Darling, if you’re water, let me be the riverbed you come to rest in,
Always rushing past, but never running dry, and, if you overflow my banks, I’ll still carry you to the ocean.”
She said, “You ain’t heard a word I said.”
I said, “Two cream, no sugar.”
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6. |
Turbines
02:41
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Hey, listen, while the feathers fall like rain – turbines of jet planes hum and start to turn. When a man is in the sky, he don’t stop to wonder, “Why?” lest he run screaming down the aisle with any metal they let him keep. But, I’m not in the sky – I’m just sitting on my lawn while the cops keep riding by and frowning as the feathers fall. Hey, listen – strange things come from the sky, stranger than you or I could ever conceive.
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7. |
Waiting
05:01
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What fools are we, waiting 2000 years.
They all laugh and rightly so.
Still we’re waiting, impatiently waiting.
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8. |
The Woods
03:58
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Would you tear down that house if I came looking for the boy?
If I came looking for the boy, would you lead him to the woods?
If you lead him to the woods, he would cry out my name.
If he cried out my name, would you slap a hand to his mouth?
With your hand against he mouth, he would stare up into your eyes,
He’d stare into your eyes; he’d remember all you said.
He’d remember all you said about all the things I’d done.
Knowing all the things I’d done, he’d go limp as a doll.
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Entire Cities Toronto, Ontario
Simon Borer, Ruhee Dewji, Dave Missio, Alison Lang, Tristen Brown, Valley Weadick, Zach Clark. Psychedelic cow-punk, rock and roll barn dance, a big old party.
Entire Cities recommends:
Dorothea is noisy and transcendently beautiful and fucking shreds.
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Fresh Face Forward
by New Fries
The funnest punk freak out, they played out our fucking house!
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supported by 4 fans who also own “Deep River”
Though all of the contents of a dictionary will continue to fail me, this album will always save me from certain loneliness each and every time. I love that there is finally an album for those that had their orchard burn down. Thank you. "if your body's sore i will make some more i will clack my teeth up tight to yours comb lint, come less, check for burs & beasts starve youself for weeks thats a bible, belt, breathe--"
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The Southern California-based band makes airy and psychedelic folk.
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Rootsy cosmic Americana with good time family vibes from Glendale, California.
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Echo Dancing
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The legendary Alejandro Escovedo returns with another country-rock scorcher.
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