dressing to undress

this is an album that surprised me. it’s a lot more rootsy and rustic than anything i’ve ever done, and in some parts it might sound a bit like my unconscious and skewed attempt at making an americana album, though i didn’t really steer it in that direction. things like blue cheese necklace and a well-thought-out escape are completely unlike anything i’ve done before, sort of crawling toward a slanted take on alt-country or something. they weren’t written that way, but at the recording stage both of those songs suddenly morphed into something quite different from what i initially intended. there’s a lot of banjo, melodica, wurlitzer electric piano (a real one! no more emulations for me), brushed drums (sticks were hardly used at all, which is a first for me), various acoustic guitars, and random odd quirky instruments. a lot of the songs follow some pretty repetitive structures, which again was something i didn’t plan. i guess some things just feel too good to play for only half a minute and then never revisit again. it’s ridiculous, but after going so long without writing anything approaching a conventionally-structured song, dipping tentatively back into it is like this exciting new musical direction, as if it’s something i’ve never done before. a song like a well-thought-out escape, for example, is basically just the same three chords played over and over again, and yet i think it’s one of my favourite things i’ve ever done, at least at the moment of this writing. still, the only bona fide chorus that shows up is in the one song i didn’t write myself. this is the first album i’ve ever put out with a cover song of any kind on it, and for whatever reason it’s probably also one of my favourite songs on the album. but i really like the whole thing. and i’m not normally one to say that about my own stuff, because i tend to lose interest in my cds as soon as they’re finished and i’m off working on the next thing. or, in the case of something like OH YOU THIS, i practically disown the album and try to distance myself from it as much as possible, while gargling with rocks and trying not to choke to death.

there was an odd sense of purpose with this album—i felt that i was working toward something fairly concrete pretty much the whole time, whereas in most cases i don’t know quite what an album will sound like until it’s finished, even if i think i’ve got it all mapped out beforehand. aside from two or three tracks that were recorded in the spring before i had figured out what to focus my energy on, this cd was recorded over a period of three weeks as june bled into july, with many songs recorded and mixed very quickly. a lot of times i wasn’t feeling that motivated, so i’d tell myself i was just going to track some banjo or acoustic guitar, that way i could say i at least did a bit of work on something. half an hour later a song would be completely finished, and more layered than anything i’d done in years, if not ever. and then i’d go on to do the same thing three more times in the next hour or two. a lot of times i would mix the songs immediately after they had been recorded, and in some cases a bit of time and distance probably would have helped a little. but even if some of these songs are mixed somewhat erratically, i like the energy of those mixes and didn’t feel that their going under the knife would have made a significant difference. i’m never going to find the “perfect” mix or put out something that sounds like it was engineered by someone in the big leagues anyway, so i don’t see the point in trying to polish things up when the end result isn’t going to be that different from what i started with. during the making of this album, i shook off the gearslutism that had infected me while retooling the “studio”, and reacquainted myself with the art of flying by the seat of my pants and just making music with whatever was at hand. i like inhabiting that space, and it’s nice to finally be back there again.

somewhere along the way i seem to have developed quite an affinity for multi-tracking my voice all over the place, sometimes sloppily-so. i think “fidget” back on the NOSTALGIA-TRIGGERING MECHANISM ep may have been the turning point, when i triple-tracked my voice on a whim and realized i liked the sound a lot more than just double-tracking, which wasn’t something i’d done very much of as it was. there are only a few songs here without omnipresent vocal overdubs of one kind or another, and my voice has never been more upfront in the mix or more free of effects of any kind (no delay, no reverb, no artificial doubling…nothin’. except for a solution improvised with yellow electrical tape, which is all reverb, all the way). i don’t know what it is…i guess i just like the sound, and these days i rarely record something without feeling the urge to at least triple-track the lead vocal. maybe it’s part of a subconscious attempt at building up a somewhat communal sound in the absence of other musicians/voices to join me. or maybe my odd relationship with my voice has simply undergone yet another mutation. i think it’s funny that i’ve gradually gone from burying my voice in the mix, slathering it in slap echo and eschewing even the most basic harmony vocals most of the time, to getting rid of the effects, pushing the voice way up in the mix and harmonizing with myself all over the place. i’m still not always a big fan of my voice, but i think i’ve more or less made my peace with it as my primary instrument, and i seem to sing as “myself” most of the time these days instead of trying on different voices and roles in every song like i did back in the old days.

i think there’s a parallel to be drawn here between BEAUTIFULLY STUPID, at least in how quickly it all came together, and that feeling of being charged with an electric sort of inspiration (along with having the album title before i even began recording it). but back then it was pain and anger i was drawing my inspiration from, and this time it was all coming from somewhere completely different. there ain’t no angry songs about girls and drugs here. well, there are some songs about girls…but none of these girls i’m singing about/to actually exist. a lot of times it felt like the songs were coming not from me, but through me. as if i was just a conduit, picking up songs that were floating around in the air like radio frequencies. take something like peculiar love for instance—even back in the papa ghostface glory days when i was improvising songs about all kinds of demented things, i never would have come up with something like this. it’s probably the strangest love song i’ve ever written for someone who doesn’t exist, somehow tender and macabre at the same time, which isn’t a trick i thought i’d ever pull off in this way. one night i was sitting around doing nothing, a throwaway phrase triggered a maelstrom of ideas, and the whole song literally came pouring out. mismatched socks is another good example—a breakup song played pretty straight, at least by my standards, again written for someone who doesn’t exist. one day i came up with the music and the first line, but nothing else was forthcoming, so i went off to brush my teeth. in the time i spent standing at the sink, just about all of the other lyrics that now comprise the song came toppling out, one line after another, with no prodding from me. i think neil young has the idea when he says it’s a gift, and if you don’t respect it, it’ll go away. on the other hand, if you keep yourself open to it and are always ready to write or record when inspiration strikes, it’ll repay you in kind. i guess i must be doing something right, because these days just about anything at all can and will inspire a song. it wasn’t always so easy to harness the inspiration and turn it into something coherent, but i’m grateful to have reached this place where i can do it seemingly without even trying. and i’m not trying to brag here…i’m as mystified by the process as anyone, probably even more so. i’m just trying to explain how it seems to happen on its own, with no prompting from me, and how incredibly strange it is. i can’t remember the last time making an album was so much fun for me, and so completely painless at every stage. granted, when you do so much of the work yourself that the only thing you’re depending on anyone else for is cover art and printing up the inserts for you, there isn’t much that can go wrong if you at least kind of know what you’re doing. but this was like coming back home after a long vacation and discovering that the skills i had been neglecting to some extent had somehow sharpened in my absence…as if i had been woodshedding the whole time, when really i was just staggering around with no real direction until something random caused a spark and it all finally came together.

it’s hard for me to center out songs as highlights here, because i like the whole thing and think this is maybe even one of the best things i’ve ever done. i probably shouldn’t say that, because it’s come back to bite me in the ass before when i’ve decided a year or two later that the album is actually kind of shit (SONGS FOR DEAD SKIN, anyone?), but there it is anyway. if i would have held off on releasing it for another month or two, this would be a double-cd and there would be about twice as many songs, but i think it’s crammed enough as it is. it should feel bloated, but for some reason it doesn’t feel that way to me. it just feels like it is what it should be, whatever that is. man…if i had a hard time trying to describe the kind of music i make when people would ask me before, how am i ever supposed to sum up this album? i don’t even know what it sounds like. and i don’t know why i like it so much when so many of the songs are so repetitive and full of lyrics that rhyme, which is not at all in keeping with the way i normally prefer to write. but getting back to the point…best songs? i’d say blue cheese necklace is right up there, and i knew it needed to be the opening track from the beginning, even before it took itself in an unexpected direction at the recording stage. i hope it shakes some people up when they pop in the cd. i don’t think it’s something anyone would expect coming from me, even if they’ve heard a decent sampling of my other work. i didn’t even expect it myself. merry christmas, tinseltown has this slowly unfurling, subtly creepy aura about it that isn’t quite like anything i’ve ever done before. some of the very best stuff comes near the end, like peculiar love, 95 streets to the right (one of my favourite instrumental things i’ve ever done, though it’s just a pretty melodically simple improvisation) and heart of liquid gold. i don’t know. unlike some of my other albums, there isn’t a single song here that i wish i could obliterate. that doesn’t happen very often. some of my favourite things are the tiny songs that other people might look at as throwaways, like brooke ballentine claps her hands, a question without a question mark, simple proposition and the completely demented it is decided in fogos (who knew beat-boxing and hoedown banjo picking went together?). i think heart of liquid gold brings everything full circle in a nice way, and if this turned out to be the last album i was ever going to make i think i would be pretty happy to have it end on this note, with me wailing, “may all your dreams come true!” (not part of the written lyrics, but a spontaneous addition that just felt so absurdly appropriate for some reason, even though it’s completely out of character for me to ever sing something like that and genuinely feel/mean it). it might be my favourite closing track i’ve ever put on an album.

this is the longest album i’ve put out in a good six years, the most songs by far i’ve ever put on one cd, and if you can believe it, there were more than a few songs that didn’t make the cut. some of them will probably show up on different albums down the road, while others will languish in obscurity until i get around to putting together another collection of misfit songs sometime in the next decade or so. on a random note, this is the first album of mine in six years to feature a hidden track. six years! that’s way too long to go without hidden tracks if you ask me. for being one of the most strangely cohesive albums i’ve ever made, this is also one of the oddest things i’ve done in a very long time, and i kind of like it that way. there are a number of oddball tracks and asides that wouldn’t be out of place on a modern day papa ghostface cd. i’ve never done anything like mary anne says grace before and, as brief of an interlude as it is, i couldn’t resist throwing it in with the other songs. it cracks me up. actually, quite a few songs fall into the “not even remotely like anything i’ve ever done before” category, like you don’t need ideas when you have other people to steal them from; i always wanted to write a song that laid bare my feelings about how pathetic the music business is and what a joke most popular music has become, and i did write some things on that subject that went unrecorded, but i never expected i’d do something a capella like this. it was a lot of fun to record. another strange thing—i don’t think there’s a single dirty word uttered throughout the cd. that’s pretty unusual for me, because i’m a pretty foul-mouthed guy these days. this blog will attest to that fact…and a lot of the time i’m really holding back when i write here. wait…my mistake. waterfall of teeth has a brief moment of profanity. but that’s about it. the line “and the rest, as they say…” shows up in two different songs for some reason. not sure what that’s about. but at least what they say is different on each occasion, so that’s something to be thankful for.

a few technical points, if you’re interested in that sort of thing:

the only mic used to record the drums was an AEA R88 stereo ribbon microphone, placed something like four or six feet in front of the kit and at about head level. or at the level of my head, which may not be at the same level as your head. we’d have to get together and compare heads to be sure. there were no close mics to speak of on any of the drums or cymbals, and i couldn’t position the ribbon mic exactly the way i wanted because the swivel-mounting clip-thing AEA provided me with—which would have given me a bit of play—turned out to be defective and useless. my first instinct was to use the ribbon mic on the overheads, throw in a kick mic, maybe a snare mic, and then see how it fared. i had never tried a FOK mic before (dig that acronym), but now it became my only real option. given all of that, somehow, this is probably the hugest kick drum sound i’ve ever recorded, and there’s no kick mic to speak of. maybe it’ll even be too huge on some hi-fi systems. and maybe the cd will blow up some of those ridiculously pimped-out bass-heavy car stereo systems that cost more than the vehicle itself. i’d feel a little bad if that happened, but then i’d probably laugh. anyone who spends that amount of money on a car stereo when it all ends up sounding like a forty dollar piece of runny shit anyway because of the disgusting amount of bass boost employed, well…they’re probably not going to be listening to my music in the first place. as previously mentioned, i played the drums with brushes almost exclusively. they just seemed to suit most of the songs better than sticks. i brought an old brass snare drum back into the fold after ignoring it entirely for five years and discovered that it had matured into exactly the sound a lot of these songs needed. i found myself wishing i had brought it out of retirement even sooner so it could have made its mark on please remember to forget me, because the deeper sound of that snare probably would have been a better fit than the higher-pitched maple one i initially used, but i didn’t feel like going back and re-tracking the drums for that song after it had been mixed. so, of course, i didn’t. throwing another mic or two in there would have yielded a much tighter and more focused sound, but i’m pretty tired of all the overproduced, squashed, compressor-pumping, ridiculously hyped drum sounds that are all the rage these days, so i thought i would go for the sound of—gasp!—drums in a room, being played by a human being. pretty daring, i know. besides, the unpolished/unproduced drum sound is a good fit for the music, i think. i’ve futzed around with so many different mic placement strategies over the years, it’s nice just to throw a mic up in the room that’s roughly centered in front of the kit and leave it at that for a change. in the future i probably will experiment with at least another mic or two, maybe to get the snare to cut a bit more in some songs, but i think i’m pretty happy with the way the drums came out on this cd. i like the roomy vibe. i also think it’s more interesting as a musician to have to alter the way i play if i want to get a certain sound, instead of relying on mic placement and after-the-fact tweaking to give it to me.

the only electric guitar used throughout was a forty-year-old japanese teisco of indeterminate origin. the somewhat thin, twangy sound of this guitar was perfect for a lot of these songs, and i gave the tremolo arm a pretty good workout too. all my other electric guitars are starting to get irritated with me for not playing them, though, so i’ll have to switch things up a bit in short order. given what i paid for the teisco, to say it was a steal would be the understatement of the year. funny how it came into my life at just the right time, when i wasn’t even looking to get a guitar that was anything like it. it seems the axe knew that i would be needing it shortly, even if i hadn’t yet figured that out myself. i’ve never used electric guitar in this way on an album before—as purely a supplementary thing, with none of the songs using it as a starting point or the main instrument. it was fun coming up with guitar parts that would work as melodic counterpoints or contrasts without overwhelming the other instruments in the mix, and i ended up double-tracking most of them.

the 1932 regal parlor guitar that came into my life at the same time as the teisco proved to be at least as inspiring, and it made its mark on this cd as well. i’m not much of a slide player, as you can hear (i haven’t really played slide with anything even approaching regularity since 1999), but something like beneath the darkening sky is proof that the instrument is almost definitely possessed. i just don’t play or sing like that. at all. ever. granted, there are some mistakes in there, as always, but i think the idea still gets across. it’s strange to me how such a small, lightweight guitar can put out such a huge sound. it records better than any guitar i’ve ever mic’d up in my life, but then i think it would probably sound almost as good if you stuck a telemarketer’s headset mic in front of it. the guitar also never seems to go out of tune, regardless of where it goes or what fluctuations in temperature it experiences. i guess if it’s been around this long without so much as experiencing a hairline crack, it was built to last and will probably outlive me without much trouble. when that day comes, in the year 2250, hopefully it’ll end up in the hands of someone who gets as much enjoyment out of playing it as i do.

making its recorded debut on this cd along with those two new instruments is a toy ukulele with dodgy intonation that’s been waiting for me to give it some attention for a while now. you can hear it on every man needs to paint a face on his hand sometimes and sun comes up, it’s a one-legged seagull. my mandolin even shows up on a few tracks after not getting much love for a while. right now it can get a little buzzy at times, and i didn’t get around to giving it the adjustment it needed while recording this album, so in a few parts of waterfall of teeth and peculiar love, what sounds like a bit of distortion is really just mandolin buzz. another new sound is the melodica. i could have used it a lot more than i did, because it’s another instrument that’s an absurd amount of fun to play. i think i ended up using it more like a horn, because some of things i played on the melodica sound like lines and harmonies i would play on something like a trumpet or a sax, assuming i had one of those and could get any usable sound out of it. it’s a fun sound to add to my arsenal, and i’ll be using it a lot more on future cds. yet another instrument making its recording debut here is a toy piano that sadly only shows up on one song, but will definitely be heard more in the future. it sounds almost a little creepy to me, the way it’s just a little bit out of tune but not so much that it won’t work with other more conventional instruments. figuring out the best way to record it was an interesting experience.

eq was used very sparingly, and only on a few things. i’ve never used a lot of it (mainly because i still haven’t invested in good outboard eq that would actually make things sound better), but in general i think it’s better to get things sounding the way you want them on the way in as opposed to trying to fix everything in the mix. if i wanted a brighter electric guitar sound, for example, i grabbed a thin pick and got what i wanted instantly, even though i don’t much care for playing with a pick these days. i’m sure everything would sound a whole lot better if someone else mixed and mastered it, but that would eat a gigantic hole in my pocket in about seven seconds, given how prolific i can be when i’m firing on all cylinders. so if it doesn’t sound good, the blame rests squarely on my shoulders. i’m a lot better at this engineering thing than i used to be, but i’m still miles away from being a pro. i just do what i do because i don’t have a choice and there’s no one else to do it for me. so i did what i did, which is what i do, and it is what it be, which is what it is. if that last sentence made any sense to you, we should probably start dating. my email address can be found on the “who the hell is johnny west?” page. i don’t do the long-distance thing anymore, though, so if it isn’t geographically feasible we’re just going to have to admire one another from afar and keep it platonic. i hope you’re not too devastated.

i’d get into more specific details involving what microphones/preamps were used and how they were positioned/set, which amplifiers were used where, and other things like that, but in some cases there was no real technique involved (by “some cases” i obviously mean “most cases”…there isn’t much of any theory involved in what i do), and most people probably aren’t interested in that stuff anyway. i doubt anyone is sitting around wondering, “how does johnny west get those guitar sounds on his cds? what are his vocal stacking and triple-tracking secrets? what is his preferred paper stock for lyric writing purposes?” frankly, i think if anyone ever watched me in my element, recording and putting songs together and mixing them, they would probably be filled with an uncontrollable urge to break into song. and not just any song—a shakira song. wait…that’s not what i meant to type, is it? i suppose only shakira knows the answer to that question.

now that i’ve written the longest page for any album here by far, i should probably stop. but i hope anyone who hears this cd gets as much enjoyment out of listening to it as i did making it.

TRACKS:

blue cheese necklace
please remember to forget me
he was saved by poultry from the shadow of beef
mouffa matta
a question without a question mark
merry christmas, tinseltown
everything he asked you
creepy crawly things
excuse me, miss…where might i find a bandana like yours?
a well-thought-out escape
your secret isn’t safe with me
mary anne says grace
every man needs to paint a face on his hand sometimes
simple proposition
wait all morning
you don’t need ideas when you have other people to steal them from
thief of idle breath
waterfall of teeth
condensed journey of a tree
weak bladder blues
random confessions of a failed lothario
brooke ballentine claps her hands
never bring lined paper to a knife fight
mismatched socks
what will become of luke perry’s nipples?
it is decided in fogos
sun comes up, it’s a one-legged seagull
peculiar love
95 streets to the right (is where i will find the heart of you)
a solution improvised with yellow electrical tape
beneath the darkening sky
heart of liquid gold

SOME LYRICS:

(some of the handwritten lyrics differ quite a bit from what i ultimately sang while recording)

STUFF TO LISTEN TO:

Merry Christmas, Tinseltown

Thief of Idle Breath

PROPER LYRICS:

i don’t normally make this sort of thing available, because i don’t generally think my words look that interesting on the page, especially when they rhyme as frequently as these songs do. i also think it’s more fun to make your own associations when you don’t have a lyric sheet or booklet to rely on, and sometimes you’ll mishear a word or a line as something that’s more interesting than what’s actually sung…it becomes a personal thing. but a few people have expressed an interest in the lyrics for this cd, so here they are.

these are the lyrics “as written”; some things were improvised as they were recorded, so those lyrics aren’t present (because i’m weird like that), and then there are a handful of instrumental songs that are absent by default. a few lines are different from what is sung, because i would sometimes decide i didn’t like a particular line anymore and improvise something else in its place. maybe someday i’ll start including lyric booklets for cds…but most of the time i don’t think my lyrics would be worthy of a booklet just for them. as stepfather john would say, “we’ll see.”

BLUE CHEESE NECKLACE

lightning stained the sky like forceps on your thighs
the demon mother cried a river of crimson
when you were born the second time, i was speechless
you opened up your eyes & whispered a warning
’bout drinking aftershave
a dirty game to play

i love you woman, ’cause your legs are on fire
the way you shake but somehow never perspire
i’m gonna kiss you like a nuclear baby
seems lately something’s got me thinking that maybe
my lips are on the mend
look at the way they bend

there were no dreams i had that i could remember
i hadn’t shaved my legs since last year, september
your heart, it gurgled, as if it were a stomach
just tell me what you need & i shall become it
’cause anyone can change
shapeshifting ain’t so strange

i couldn’t come up with a suitable ending
i kicked the vacuum cleaner i was befriending
still, one can hope for some kind of resolution
instead of testicular electrocution
“let’s pray the boy behaves”
that’s what i heard you say

PLEASE REMEMBER TO FORGET ME

sweet love
little trickles through the cracks
she has risen from the ashes of the old love
the one we set on fire late last june
the idea was just to send a warning
but the wind took hold of the flame
& the rest, as they say
is a story not worth telling
to anyone

sweet mary, mother of george
do you know what it is to gorge yourself
on cheap perfume & homemade wine?
i wonder myself sometimes
every kiss, a brushfire in your stomach
every touch, a cruel reminder of
your ashen love

HE WAS SAVED BY POULTRY FROM THE SHADOW OF BEEF

big brother thomas
went hunting for some chicken
he gripped his rifle
trampled on some spinach
doo-wah…

found hisself hangin’
from one o’ them old tree traps
feet where his head should be
hair hangin’ in the dirt

standing before him
was some big old chicken
saying, “you ain’t gonna eat me
i got your rifle now”

he said, “i’m tired of you people
tramplin’ on my spinach
eatin’ all my siblings
wiping your asses with my leaves”

big brother thomas
he ain’t back for dinner
best we start without him
probably fell asleep somewhere

MOUFFA MATTA

are you so incredibly endowed that nothing
can puncture your balloon?
did you hear the one about the cow who braided her hair
& froze beneath the moon?
there’s a lesson in that tale for you
but i doubt it will resonate as it should
how much wood would your significant other chop
if your significant other could chop wood?

the material you were made with
has a texture not unlike velvet
but it catches random dust particles
as they try to float away on the air
an unexpected trick of the light
is the only thing that would give you away
so you keep to the shadows most of the time
& keep rolls of scotch tape wrapped around your fingers

in the evening, you feel more comfortable in the company of the dead
it’s a feeling you’re convinced is exclusive to vampires

A QUESTION WITHOUT A QUESTION MARK

how many men have you had under your skin?
how many men have you had under your skin?
i don’t care how you think of me
but don’t think of me less frequently

how many men have you had under your spell?
how many men have you had under your spell?

MERRY CHRISTMAS, TINSELTOWN

heaven’s sake, come in from the rain
you won’t find your way home tonight
the fog is a blanket pulled tight against the sky
leaving only room enough to keep the chalcogens fresh
i once was amazed by the taking in of air
& letting it escape, unrestricted
it’s a feeling you should know at least once or twice
but you won’t find it here anymore

merry christmas, tinseltown
i’ll remember you as you were
before the great recession

EVERYTHING HE ASKED YOU

you don’t believe the worst like other people do
you still think someday he’s coming back to you
when he left, he just about burned the whole house down
now you spend most of your time kicking ashes around

you visit his grave every day or two
got no idea who you’re talking to
they filled his casket up with bags of sand
still you smile & tell him all the things you never could before because it’s…
it’s everything he asked you not to say

CREEPY CRAWLY THINGS

your ice or mine?
swear on your daughter’s eyes
that you won’t be another one of those
creepy crawly things that do
the creepy crawly things you creatures do

we have arrived
someplace we never thought we’d get to
don’t close your eyes
you’ll miss the things you thought you wanted
to see just one time before we died

i’m coming over half past two to pick you up
we’re gonna drive around until the wheels come off
we’ll talk until our throats close up
& words become a hindrance, not a joy

EXCUSE ME, MISS…
WHERE MIGHT I FIND A BANDANA LIKE YOURS?

scuzi, senora
dove si trova
une foulard comme quello?
ciao, bona sera

maybe the moonlight
maybe the shadows
dance across faces
make them look different
the shapes remain the same, but the through-line has changed

it’s been a long time
since i’ve been near you
so drop your flashlight
just let your fingers fall
fingers fall
where they may or may not find a place to rest

naked on your picnic table
tender as the fruit i brought you
at an auction site i bought you
a bracelet to cover the marks that you made when
you were less certain about certain things
that now seem so insignificant

(note: the spelling for the first verse, which is italian, is almost definitely very wrong. i don’t really know the mechanics of the language at all; i just memorized a few particularly silly phrases from an italian/english pocket dictionary while i was in bibione in 2001, and for some odd reason they’ve stayed with me. most of what little other italian i know was employed in a blanket shower way back on OH YOU THIS)

A WELL-THOUGHT-OUT ESCAPE

her love is mine to steal from you
because i claimed it first
there was a yard sale around this time last year
she was selling it for fifteen dollars
i only had a ten
but she said she’d hold it for me
and the rest, as they say
is a well thought-out escape

i wonder what her favourite colour is
is it something i would know?
or is it something more exotic
like dried blood mixed with snow?
should the presence of her need be felt
in the corner of my eye…

YOUR SECRET ISN’T SAFE WITH ME

my lover’s skin is pale as frozen breath
the blades on her feet can cut through fruit
i think she’s waking up
you can tell when the ground begins to shift beneath you

you better run run run run fast as you can
for the water in your body
you better close your eyes & pray for more rain
to wash away the evidence

someone’s trying to get to you
get to you
get to you

EVERY MAN NEEDS TO PAINT A FACE ON HIS HAND SOMETIMES

your mellifluous fingers
yeah
yeah
taste just like grandfather steve
yeah
yeah
tongues tied together for life
yeah
yeah
miming masturbation with a tire iron
yeah
yeah

oh, it really doesn’t matter
stored up semen—pitter patter
pitter patter
mark my fool words to the letter
change your pants, wash your face
& forget her
just forget her

WAIT ALL MORNING
(written by anna atkinson, and i’m not sure if i got the words exactly right…)

YOU DON’T NEED IDEAS WHEN YOU HAVE OTHER PEOPLE TO STEAL THEM FROM

woke up tired this morning, so i went back to sleep
but my brain was burnin’ with mysterious dreams
limbless trees were swaying in a mercury breeze
all the moths in my mouth were craving antifreeze

woke up singing something with my face bathed in sweat
seemed to be familiar, but i ain’t figured yet
where i might have heard it sung by somebody else
might as well slap my name on it & call it mine

talkin’ plagiarism, & it don’t mean a thing
make a million dollars, & i can’t even sing
give me plastic surgery to enforce sex appeal
all the boys & girls will soon be masturbatin’ to my poster on their wall

art is dead!
long live mediocrity
art is dead!
long live impotent, insipid ear candy

THIEF OF IDLE BREATH

small breasts cup the moonlight fading
a disease unto itself
bones from sleep left in a dresser drawer
to breathe the oxygen of wood

there ain’t trees enough to guide you
through the listless fields of snow
but there are someone else’s footprints
maybe they’ll lead you somewhere

away from me
tearing out your own breath like a thief
you can’t touch it, but you’ll taste it just the same
it burns, sliding through your throat as vapour
the only way to stop it is to pull your insides out

can we always be on time?

WATERFALL OF TEETH

i keep you pickled in a jar so you will stay exactly as i wish to see you
cigarette burns stain the sofa, but the company i keep don’t seem to mind much
there must be one good reason to get up each day & fake a modicum of love for something
we eat to shit & drink to piss & fuck to live & sleep to dream, but we’re not dreaming

do cartwheels on his carcass, pirouettes & all the other moves that you’ve been saving
i’ll try to conjure some creative lie to justify why i just gave up shaving
a river of saliva overflows & congregates around your vacant pillow
a waterfall of teeth, & all that i remember is a scream & seven stitches

CONDENSED JOURNEY OF A TREE

you are my son
i birthed you from yellow grass
you are of me, but you are not me
my earth bleeds through your veins

lift up your arms
raise them to the sky
your youth is precious fluid
you must drink as much as you can, while you can

soon you will grow
into something magnificent
like no tree there ever has been
or ever will be again

they’ll cut you down
tear through the years of your flesh
the ground will weep for you
but no one will hear

kisses on ellipses
i go out of my mind
scales on your pillow
i go out of my mind
insects swarm to new food
i go out of my mind
thousands of tiny teeth rush to greet you
i go out of my mind

WEAK BLADDER BLUES

poor boy, no one cares for he
poor boy, no one cares for he
ain’t got time to work out a place to be

linen ringlets cloud his dreams
linen ringlets cloud his dreams
ain’t no way around them, or so it seem

whiskey fever all around
whiskey fever all around
till he pissed himself and passed out on the hollow ground

BROOKE BALLENTINE CLAPS HER HANDS

summer is upon us
sing the idiot chorus
don’t you loosen, baby
it’ll be true someday

you gave me your socks; that means you took mine
they won’t flatter your feet the way they do mine
we all lose some, baby
they’ll fit you someday

NEVER BRING LINED PAPER TO A KNIFE FIGHT

cleanliness is next to you
on my dog-eared list of things to do
nevermind the fact that you cannot “do” that kind of noun
i doubt that the word will mind

what you do with words
is yours & yours alone to wrestle with
on those dark & somewhat lonely nights
’cause you know, i had a love affair with salmon
i had a love affair with salmon
i think she said her name was shannon

MISMATCHED SOCKS

your eyes are leaking windshield wiper fluid
i didn’t wanna have to be the one to say it
what does one body good will break another down
yeah, it’s true
it doesn’t matter who is standing there in front of you

in time you will see that this is for the best
and other lies, like “it’ll be alright” & “i love you too”
white, white, white, white snow melts into your braided hair
i know none of this is anything that you want to hear

but it’s true
there’s no revealing moment
no calculated misstep
love is just kindness misconstrued
i need another drink of you
to help my head unscrew

IT IS DECIDED IN FOGOS

medicine man with a corn cobb pipe
he removing my ears to make shiny new wife
the last one he have, she eat all the rice
he be left with no choice but to chew through her face
this time he know what need to be done
he make creature devoid of mouth, teeth or tongue
if she get hungry, he make funnel from pipe
and feed rice to her ears all intravenous-like

PECULIAR LOVE

love is an underage stethoscope
you keep in your ice skates for show
but the blades slice the throats of anyone you care for
bright red sprays the ceilings & all of the walls
it’s a colour you could use on your eisel
but the other shades would feel left out
so you dance
with yourself
with one polished blade in your mouth

marriage is something that sick people do
when they want to destroy something beautiful
at least that’s what you said to the last man you killed
it seemed that he would have agreed
if his femoral vein hadn’t been severed
by your elegant leap into the air
even death could not erase
the expression of awe on his face

our union was brief, to be sure
i cared for you then like i care for you now
but my efforts to reach you were useless & vain
once i passed out from the blood loss & pain
i woke up to discover my limbs had been severed
two of them brandished like swords in your hands
now i rest on a hook that’s a bright shining silver
suspended for all of my years on your wall

& you dance
with yourself
with one polished blade in your mouth
& i watch
with a smile
i’d get down & dance with you, body-permitting
but dancing’s not something i do much these days
supported by metal & drywall & wood

so you dance
by yourself
you blow me a kiss
it’s a very peculiar love

BENEATH THE DARKENING SKY

cousin mary done me wrong
cousin mary
why oh why?
three white horses in the stable
let them run free
let them run

through the darkness, lined with trees
through her pale skin
why oh why?
has it been that long since last she
said her love had gone away?

cousin mary killed her lover
left no trace for men to find
took another hungry lover
told the same old dirty lie

HEART OF LIQUID GOLD

have your legs wilted away
leaving nothing but sun in your eyes?
has your mistress begged you to stay
& did you at least feign surprise?
sodomy inside your heart
till the thing refuse to work
still, you won’t escape for long
from the question of your worth
brittle bones & paper flesh
you may never find your way home
african american
with a heart of liquid gold

i will eat your face tonight
tonight
your heaving bosom ain’t gonna slow me down
no lover’s flesh will escape the grasp of my jaw

children are tiny gods in your clothes hamper
can’t see the bottom half of your face
you know it’s better this way
you know it’s better this way
you know more than i do
the flesh is festering
pulling at itself to become something new
the hair grows back
as your spine doth crack in enlightening ways
the rhythm fights itself a little bit
from beneath the pretzel of your skin
water & sweat aren’t happening yet
so we’ll wait a little while…

GENDER PLAYS NO ROLE WHATSOEVER (unlisted track)

got a naked man
she is
in my heart
she is
in my heart
she is
in my heart