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Stories of Earth

by beauty is the end

supported by
Sven B. Schreiber (sbs)
Sven B. Schreiber (sbs) thumbnail
Sven B. Schreiber (sbs) Thank you, thank you, thank you... can't thank you enough for this unusual, surprising, refreshing, totally weird album! You really made my day today... and many future days to come. Favorite track: You Were Something Else.
George Wallace
George Wallace thumbnail
George Wallace A-burst with cleverness and verve, I've heard nothing like it since the 80s heyday of Jules and the Polar Bears. In some better parallel universe, this would rule the Top 40. Favorite track: You Were Something Else.
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1.
Kiss Them 06:32
I know you'll be an object either way In a diner or an office or the big screen But you'll be whored to more lovelorn boys this way than ever else You can pride yourself on being seen I wonder where you thought I'd fit in To the breadth of your career 'Cause you'll never play anyone but the cutest thing they've ever seen And so you'll have to kiss them, I fear I know you'll be a long time in the south With your current protagonist And every head of casting has designs up on your mouth There's lines right down the hallway to your lips I can't begin to say the shame I experience In accusing M of anything 'Cause we're in the same business when we go to punch the clock You have to kiss them, we sing It would be no different if we hung it up Tomorrow and sat on all the royalties When you say that it means nothing I believe you As much as I believe your love can freeze And though it's me who you made a promise to Some comedian with a younger face will show He'll say something awkward right off the top of the script And you'll have to kiss him, I know I know that you'll be leaving me 'Cause I can't tell the difference in the smile That you show off in syndication or that you save for the boudoir Between your matter and your precious style But your fans are getting older just like you are Just how long do you think you can keep them happy for? 'Cause when your hips and thighs and lips begin their downward slip Then you won't have to kiss them anymore
2.
I was a child And you were a knot I, but a leanto And you a ziggurat Towering far above me Sun glancing off your veil I was a worshipper And I contended to solve you The gall of it, I’d never seen But beaten, warrant, I wallowed Didn’t you give me these dreams? You see ever since I’ve known you Never needed more, never had less I was a worshipper You were something else I came as a vagrant To your dazzling veneer And said I come now, have patience Uneavesdropped by your ears If your locks won’t allow me And your window blind nothing tells Won’t I still be peering inwards? For just once, I sighted you Your feet, your wings, your fingers long And no plea for mercy Would I heed from the multuitous throng But the longing-born hydra Reared its other seven heads I, a hero of old You were something else I tried to laugh off the notion To follow you to such climbs Feeling like a piece of paper Folded more than seven times So turn this ship starboard You’re no longer the shore In these waters I’ve wandered With no conscience onboard But then how would you notice What your currents say to my sails? I thought I was a wanderer You thought I was something else
3.
I have to choose between the land that greets me cordially And the one that tells me what it feels I have to choose a flag A banner or a paper bag The lowest cut, the shortest skirt, the highest heel I have to not have to do the things I have to do At least I think that’s what I want To say to a river that’s forgotten where it flows You speak to me in poetry And laugh at me in prose I have to choose between A song built around complexity Or one destroyed by complexity And in between a choice I have To not have to want what I have Is close to closing itself into halves I have to choose a rock A stone wall or a wall-borne clock ‘Cause something strong there ought to be To say to an ocean that’s in envy of a sea Your waters ebb in prose And flow in poetry I have to write back home In time to let my mother know With colour or invisible ink Either way they’re bound to know Just as much as I let go In the backwards way I thought I blink “You dare to raise your voice” Don’t entertain me with a choice The thought of it well past where it was chose To say to a poor man who still owns fancy clothes You flatter me in poetry And bludgeon me in prose I need to find the place To spackle in the empty space Where faces make their way into my dreams About something I understand Beside a love that I can stand Beside a love that is just what it seems To be just what it is My business what is this That couldn’t be what I tell it to be? To say to my lover that I have yet to see You walk away with prose And smile with poetry
4.
I only feel this way when I am too long on my knees (And the pads would go to waste otherwise) The heels look mean but they make it hard to leave (And easier to trip the landmines) I take a deep breath in and then forget how to proceed (I've forgotten to exhale so many times) I guess I'll get it in the next life I don't wanna be a housewife I don't wanna be a housewife I don't wanna be a housewife Keeping the sarcophagus clean I don't wanna be a housewife I don't wanna be a housewife For someone else's family They didn't hire me for wits or observation (I'm sorry, did you see your shoe's untied?) For richer or for power, I in somnolent starvation ('cause they never saw my hungry eyes) There's no fault behind it, I put pride into my patience (They'd have to hurt me otherwise) I only hope they never realize I don't wanna be a housewife I don't wanna be a housewife I don't wanna be a housewife Not a single one of them looks like me I don't wanna be a housewife I don't wanna be a housewife I don't wanna be a housewife For someone else's family I never lied to you, I never stole And if any other way should rot my soul I only gave the blues to the toilet bowl There are a hundred ways to resign (Most likely you'll have yours and I'll lose mine) Thanks for your thoughts, but I'm feeling fine (And I don't think that I'll try suicide) And if I'm saying it in semaphore or something like (You gotta watch the vegetative eyes) Then I'm just dreaming of my days on the Maginot line I don't wanna be a housewife I don't wanna be a housewife And once I've fulfilled my half-life Are they gonna make glue from me? But don't they look so dapper in their fine evening trappings Oh, I need to know what happens when they all turn seventeen I've already lost too much time Already lost too much time 'ready lost too much time For a second glance from him to me
5.
Do It Slowly 06:02
I know when you can't care for me anymore It's because you've changed We met when I was face down on the bathroom floor And my pants were stained And now you've found some hotdog that wasn't rolled across the ground Well we're both only subs for some filet that's not around So please Please If you have to leave don't do it slowly I know when I can't say I love you anymore It's because you've stayed I haven't seen the outside of this studio apartment Since the last time I got paid And while two weeks worth of work is sucked into my face I gave you all the breathing room of an Amazonian snake So please Please If you have to leave don't do it slowly If I want to be the babe that suckles from your breast If I want to profit from your taste for helplessness Then I understand if you can't help but give me everything When I asked for more They only come to me as mothers come to orphans Because they're forced I wonder if empty space desires to be full If fawning futility thinks itself beautiful Please Please If you have to leave don't do it slowly
6.
Even if I've never been safe, I still know how to lie about it You always have a laugh when I say there's no need to come down When I come to, you're always pounding my chest 'cause I tested too much of the powder And rock 'n' roll will save me, when you're not around Along the line we forgot how to get to our knees, forgot how to lose it I still hear you in dreams at night chiding me Do you wanna ossify, some ancient corporate ruin You don't strike as requiring that sort of equity Well, all the kids are asleep in the Reichstag They don't hear the alarm, the lullaby's playing too loud Before the smoke has filled your lungs, your tongue has come unstuck You say, “Rock 'n' roll will save you, when I'm not around” It's too easy to give in to Hell, a place where you can't remember The dance in your eyes the time that we met You never thought that you'd get permission to enter You thought it all day, but you didn't suspect Like all of the other insanities that you invited It was my pride and not our love that I wanted to crown I kept you so close nobody can blame you for being shortsighted And rock 'n' roll will save you, when I'm not around
7.
Sound Asleep 05:40
Wanna know where I have been all night Is it right? There’s blood on my body, is it mine? Is it right? Every time I try to speak 'Some octopus is tightening my pipes Is that weak? Please don’t look at me like that I only can do what comes naturally when I’m asleep Cleverness is as cleverness does Is it enough? My mouth is coarse, my eyes are out of love Am I enough? Try to keep my conscience clean But it’s like I’ve been making out with mud for a week Please don’t tell me to be shamed I fight so hard when I’m awake It’s just the way I am when I’m asleep I shake my head I bellow in the night Self-denied I zip up my pants, I stay polite Was it right? There’s a harem crying out They’re misty-eyed And as I turn around they can weep When I wake will I be proud Or will I curse the shackles that are sound when I’m asleep?
8.
It´s only trust that we need That I´m not the same old raging adolescent If faults steam, it´s only on the crease Where prevailing air meets temperature of my temper But I only grow by throwing up the stone And if there isn´t sense within my shoutin´ Then it´s just the art of the humour in the heart Of the old gray mountain When you got lost I fought against the thought Of the times together I´d already counted If they all smash before a single one is hatched Then the shells will settle in somebody´s garbage In the ground that´s born from soil that was worn By years of roots' relentless rabblerousin´ And the stones part cause there´s humour in the heart Of the old gray mountain Well I won´t stop until your body´s caught Between me and the clutches of your captors And I´ll throw fire out of my highest spire And I´ll find these fields and fells a little flatter But there´s no voice, not the slightest bit of noise Besides the flies and waves the rocks are pounding And the light´s dark, no you won´t see very far From the old gray mountain When the sky lit, the cowards had all hid Who had did this wicked thing against your person All the grass smoked, the story that was spoke Was a joke 'bout how it wasn´t theirs but our sin And now every day a silence is attained The athletes of speech don´t run their mouths about it No, not a soul will chart the humour in the heart Of the old gray mountain Age will come, the vocal turn to dumb The precocious ensign turns to tired general All these babes with bangs are painted on the overhangs And your visceral volumption turns to symbol And yet while these waifs are too thin to fit your name They flaunt their stilted shoes and practice poutin´ Still you´re not forgot while there´s humour in the heart Of the old gray mountain

about

Written in brief bursts hitchhiking in Iceland and wintering in a cabin, further augmented by some tempest-tossed old faves. Songs reflecting isolation, unreckonable forces taking human shape, people distorted beyond facial recognition. The claustrophobic business and everyday grandeur of city life. And big beats, for good measure.

credits

released May 13, 2016

Clint Degan - voice, guitar
Cullen Corley - drumset
Kirsten Lamb - upright bass
Afghan Dan Harris Levine - guitar, synthesis
Todd Marston - piano
Tim Lillis - piano, organ

Songs by Clinton Degan
Arrangements by Degan/Corley/Lamb/Levine/Marston/Lillis
Produced by Clinton Degan and Jack Younger
Recorded June 2013 - April 2014 by Jack Younger at Watch City Studios
Mixed November 2014 - January 2015 by Jon Taft at New Alliance Audio
Mastered by Nick Zampiello at New Alliance East
Artwork by Jenn Strauss
Layout by Peter Danilchuk

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beauty is the end Boston, Massachusetts

pursuit of the sublime

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