dressing to undress

i have mixed feelings about this one, mostly because of the torrent of bullshit i encountered during the post-production phase. a botched mastering job (or three of them, to be precise) was only the beginning.

this is more of my very un-hip take on quasi-electronica, and maybe some of my feelings of ambiguity stem from the fact that it isn’t much of a departure from GROWING SIDEWAYS. similar to what happened with TEMPORARY AMNESIA and KEEP YOUR SCARS, there wasn’t really any break between the two albums; the day after i mixed “you go away”, i recorded skinny ditch and a whole new album was underway. this one does have a different feel about it, though. things are a little less skeletal. there’s more bitterness, more nasty words, more fake wurlitzer electric piano, more bass lines and more variation in the loops. this time, every sound that isn’t coming from my throat is made by the triton, aside from a brief fender rhodes cameo (there’s no guitar at all), and i pushed my voice up much higher in the mix than i ever had before. i don’t know why i did that, because some of the singing is pretty far from my best, but it is what it is. at the other end of the spectrum, i mixed the low end pretty conservatively because i was expecting the professional mastering job to boost the bass a bit like it did the last time. of course, i ended up having to master the thing myself, and i didn’t feel like going back and remixing everything all over again, so in some places the bass maybe isn’t as loud as it should be.

i don’t think the album as a whole flows nearly as well as GROWING SIDEWAYS, but i do like most of the songs. the girl who inspired some of the songs on that album came back into my orbit while i was recording this one, and she was the source of most of the bitterness because half of the songs had been recorded before we “made up”, and i was still a little pissed. the bitterness is most explicit in stultify, two cherries in an ashtray and the dog is in the diamond’s mouth. there’s also a pretty nasty shot at the amazing disappearing “girl who took the pack of cigarettes off my hands” in the otherwise middling kiss the bullets that might be one of my favourite lyrics on the album. most of the rest of the songs aren’t about anyone in particular.

the last thirty seconds or so of burglar for hides were a series of sublime melodic accidents, and constitute one of the better moments on the album. mascara tears might be my favourite thing on the cd, though there are a few other contenders (including pathic and needles to say–the missing s is intentional), and there’s a moment in the middle of the song where my microphone captures a car driving by outside but it somehow sounds like a distant synthesizer moan or something, which was a nice little unexpected touch. i like most of the lyrics, which are sort of a continuation and refinement of what i was doing on the last album. really, there isn’t anything in particular that strikes me as being overly bad here, aside from some of the singing on kiss the bullets and a few other tracks. i just don’t know how well it all works as an album. perhaps time will tell where this one fits into things, just like with OH YOU THIS. it does at least have some fun cover art to recommend it—a woman with udders as rendered by my sister erin when she was eleven or twelve.

here’s a fun little tidbit: back when i was still wasting my time sending cds out to record labels, one a&r guy responded (which wasn’t something that normally happened) and told me that this cd reminded him of a more stripped-down version of U2. i didn’t quite get that…i don’t think bono would ever sing about puking and passing out on the floor of an inflatable house named love, only to wake up the next day hung-over to discover that it was an advanced self-cleaning model and had disposed of his vomit while he slept. but maybe that’s just me.

TRACKS:

skinny ditch
stultify
dextroamphetamine sulphate
good enough is not good enough
two cherries in an ashtray
eleven letters will spell the end of you
pathic
inflatable shoes
needles to say
vengeance for the disaffected
in a dream i told you this
the diamond is in the dog’s mouth
the dog is in the diamond’s mouth
chin foam
mascara tears
frigid fuzzy blanket
kiss the bullets
burglar for hides
the one i left to drown

STUFF TO LISTEN TO:

Pathic

Needles To Say

LYRICS:

SKINNY DITCH

laugh your fucking head off
this dream belongs to you
it’s cheaper when it’s out of season
shoe me when you are what you want to be
show me a lifeless smile

clench the throat like a fist
it’s a taut remembering-things-you-wanted-to-say
but the throat kept them there

you are an exit wound on fluorescent display
you’re learning how to manipulate time to suit your needs
we drive around the block twenty five times
you say it’s just a part of getting older

will you ever do anything worth my time?
will i ever say anything worth your fickle ears?
pay attention
pay attention!
you might miss something
your life could run away without you
& you wouldn’t even notice

it’s a deflection game
the words are different, but the sentiment’s the same

STULTIFY

i’ve got a date with black
she’s my favourite colour
we’re gonna carve each other’s names
in our rosy flesh
we’ll be inseparable
we’ll never wither
like the love of a good migraine

everyone you love is gone
it’s happened before
& it kept you sorry
for all you’d done

my dear, you are mistaken
there is no retribution
tether yourself to me

DEXTROAMPHETAMINE SULPHATE

nobody loves
nobody leaves
we’re all chained together
at the bottom of a blood stream
sleeping in the car while the car breaks down
running out of unused lies & cigarettes

i’ve managed to wipe myself from your memory
through the art of controlled silence
we had our run
the handle broke off
nothing important was lost

you’re cleaner than you look, my friend
you’re gonna lick your lips & take it from the top
you slip on the rocks
your brain leaks out
the tide teases it out to sea

the socket is dry
complacent as they come
can pluralize the sky
you can
or maybe you can’t

TWO CHERRIES IN AN ASHTRAY

instant gratification
is the best friend you’ll ever have
an androgynous air pocket
that’ll never stand you up
i am a self-centered asshole
or so you say
because i gave a shit about you
what a terrible way to be

ELEVEN LETTERS WILL SPELL THE END OF YOU

a broken smile
is your perfect hell
you have nothing left to hold
& no one to hold you
when you say something
& leave it hanging in the air
where does it go?
does it stay there?
your fractured memories
run around in circles
until they’re dizzy

surprises are fingers
that trace circles in open palms
tickling the skin
with misguided purpose

i had a cat made out of formica
he broke & i was hungry
i stayed up watching infomercials
about contoured pieces of synthetic shit

PATHIC

baby went to hell in a wicker basket
baby made love to the crimson sky
baby read up about the local scene
baby broke apart when she tried to dance
now she’s everywhere

she says:
“i’m the girl who kisses your neck
& bites you hard till blood trickles down
i’m the girl who isn’t a girl
though sometimes i wish i were”

she’ll disassemble you at random

monkeys in spring
you know the monkeys in spring
you know the monkeys in spring
oh, monkeys in spring

she’s a frozen flame

NEEDLES TO SAY

words poke & prod the both of us
like curious walking sticks
our lives are like porn with a plot
though the music’s better
we use long takes & we shoot them in sequence
to preserve continuity
anyone in their right mind
would walk out halfway through
or throw popcorn at the screen

there are two lovers
they are joined at the genitals
i like this picture
it makes me think of the ocean

i stabbed you in the heart with a ballpoint pen
your aorta came apart because you didn’t say when

VENGEANCE FOR THE DISAFFECTED

i write you letters that never get sent
you infiltrate my dreams & there’s nothing i can do about it
i got no control over the subject matter
they’re not as lucid as they used to be

you’ve got far too many evidentiary concerns
& not enough money, so you hit the ground running
but they stab you in the chest with umbilical madness
nothing to declare but trickling blood

this conversation was null & void
the second you opened your stupid mouth
i got marijuana flowers & a dog named jack
you better watch yourself—he’s been trained to attack
& he don’t care if your mama don’t like you
he don’t care if your daddy used to beat you
he’s got your face burned on his mind
he’s gonna decorate your cheeks with his pretty little teeth

IN A DREAM I TOLD YOU THIS

don’t fall in love with somebody
who won’t love you back
don’t fall at all;
turn around, take two steps to your left
i’m sorry i’m not talkative
you’ve already said all there is to say

steam whistle stuck inside of death flower

you get what you want
it isn’t what you want
you don’t know what you want
you’re more beautiful now than you ever were before

you get a piece of the take
you take everything
& break it in your own way

THE DOG IS IN THE DIAMOND’S MOUTH

you got me eating out of the palm of your hand
even though you can’t cook worth a shit
you bite your nails until your fingers bleed
it’s the only thing about you that’s real

i’m sick of being lied to
sick of being fucked around with
love’s a mechanical house
it cleans itself
you can throw up in the kitchen
& the floor will be clean before you pass out on it
i’m your imaginary friend
i have been since i met you
you should call me sometime
so i can fill your head with bullshit

watch me do a swan-dive off the patio

CHIN FOAM

when i slur my words
you know there’s no one else in the room
all i see is you
but you’re a puddle that’s been disturbed
this is a trick
an ice cube breakfast

i have a place that’s mine
it doesn’t belong to anyone else
& that’s fine
as long as the table has ample support

there is a cardboard rhinoceros
walking ‘cross the street
wearing your favourite dress

you’re drinking flat ginger ale
sitting on the sidewalk
trying not to throw up

there are so many drunk drivers
this time of the night
you can spot some if you try

your hair’s a mess
it smells like flowers
& scrambled eggs

MASCARA TEARS

your tongue is a piston
punching holes in the walls that surround me
your dust & my dust cancel one another out
your best & my best are almost good enough
if i’m unwanted, then you’re a hearse
driving my carcass around the town
i won’t sleep, but i’ll dream a while

shaped your lips into rose petals
timid is as timid was
you’re not really you
you’re just words on a page
you taste like the salty sea

if i melt into a puddle of tasteless death
maybe i’ll evaporate overnight
all my liquid in one well swoop
meshed with the air as a ghostly film

two ballerinas go to new york
they take everything the city has to offer
they milk it like a swollen breast
wipe away the runoff with a shirt sleeve
there’s always an uncle who acts with his teeth
’cause he can’t deliver the lines
there’s always an illegitimate child
who will rape you just for sport

BURGLAR FOR HIDES

there isn’t any way around it—
television made you morbid
nothing in your life
turned out quite like it would
if things were very tightly scripted

the cameraman was making faces
you lost your place & started laughing
& everything was almost perfect
for twenty-six pathetic seconds

i gotta tell you
you’re so pretty when you smile
it kind of grounds you
you don’t seem so foreign
the words come tumbling out
they leave your nervous mouth
in a rapturous frenzy
i want you so crazy
it’s the only way i’ll have you

you’ve got soup for brains
it’s the kind of soup poor college students eat

ONE I LEFT TO DROWN

you fall in love too easily
chew at its skin till it falls away

death come swift & stupid
to take you from him

even now, he won’t cry
but he’ll kiss his bloody hands
imagining they’re you

still the same fucking art house movie dreams

it’s an open table
what you gonna shoot?