1. |
Participation Trophies
01:59
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Was it the point to accomplish the lofty goals you'd placed? Or was it the point to draw pity as you half-heartedly chased? We're you aware that your chance of success was based on luck, out was it the point from the vet beginning to give up the mission, because who needs ambition, right?! Let this be a lesson in selfish obsession. There is such a thing as moral "overstepping". Abuse of your pre-loaded justification, "I tried my best". The cynic, detractor in the over-reactor. The fix in the game from the subject, not master. The effort was scarce and the canned response after, "I tried my best". Yeah, I know your type. No work, all hype. Your default response? "Well it wasn't my fault." Is it the satisfying felling from playing the victim card? I see the effort that you put into feigning your disregard. Is it the fear of getting a DNF when you try? Is it entitlement? Do you deserve a privileged life? Either way, no one is here to acknowledge you. You're not fooling anyone.
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2. |
Tilt Mode
02:39
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Flood damage, the mildew left there three grey hairs ago. Remnants of gambling off your home and putting children on the street. Verbal abuse. The simple things in life are the ones that don't rack up the credit card bills. Do I share an allergy with Marc Johnson? "Lucky me," at least it's good company. How long before I know I can't get home alone until I'm instructing my feet? Left foot go ahead of me, I say! I'm afraid that as I age my control will go away. It's not the taste. It's for the race. It's for the fun of the game. I'm going for a hat trick, but soon I'll be sick. I realistic, narcissistic, faux-artistic, bad statistic. Lucky me, I don't share the allergy. But still, rack up the credit card bills. It may not be my death, but I'll still rack up and what's the point in that? I might share the tendencies of Amy Winehouse (RIP), or frat guys from my college days, or people in my dorm I hated. I might share the tendencies of my great-grandfather, but I won't let that... that can't become me.
It's so weird that people need it just to feel it when a place gets weird. I don't care if they give bad looks for not dropping $50 on beer. It's not fair that it's expected for someone to be respected. Yeah, out of here. I'll pick the tab up but won't stumble when I'm leaving here.
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3. |
Summer Camp
00:55
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Draw the line! Don't set them free, and by God, don't let them in! We'll stop at nothing to remain Sovereign!
Don't worry ma'am, we're not going to keep your calf. Just for a moment, so they can get a bath. It's nothing personal. We'll be merciful. I'm sorry sir, but you'll have to come along. This imaginary line is fostered by a simple law. Speaking of fostering, nos quedamos con tus hijos. Los vamos a meter en jaulas. A hora nos pertenecen.
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4. |
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Moe Vernon took his life back in 1933
And to this day I cannot listen to Ride of the Valkyries
Tire rows and Fluid leaks
Have never smelled the same to me
Beatrice ran off to Tijuana with Fred Motz
Took the money and Dear Johned a man without knowing her actions had a cost
Running the exhaust
Through a tube out from the (garage)
There’s no judging you for what I cannot excuse
Will you please turn off the gramophone?
7th Avenue, where I learned so much from you
Could you please turn off the background music
Please turn off the Wagner
Will you please turn off the gramophone for now?
There’s no judging you (for the action) for what I cannot excuse
No resolve
Just turn it off
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5. |
Get To The Point
00:07
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Get to the point
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6. |
The Call of The Epigon
02:51
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The impulse is to simply and make it overtly clear that you need something off your chest. Find your favorite chord, then make a "T" on the fretboard. No one is listening. Why try anymore? Safety brings complacency, nihilism, and apathy. Talent gives to tragedy when you cut the technicalities. Week after week, we practice three-chord songs, and simple chants for song-alongs for seven friends who don't keep track and old barflies who'd rather see a funky jazz band. From Queens to Hermosa Beach we write the same songs on repeat, and underscore the notion of being free while waxing nostalgic in major key. But that New Noise, it never came. Supplanted by a conquest for fortune and fame, and all that strange to tame.
"Hope, perseverance, a vision (some doubt). Green ink, a 26 oz., a bad case of big-mouth. A sum of our parts and I've never laughed harder."
-Propagandhi
Drown out what you've heard before. Displace your heroes and ask for more. The point is lost and the fans are bored.
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7. |
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Between 13th and 23 you took off your wedding ring
For a stolen mattress fling
Dress yourself in camouflage
To circumvent self-sabotage
And insulate yourself
Where feelings flee, history repeats
And vows don’t mean anything
So flip your hair back and say cheese
Kids will you please avert your eyes
As we dismantle your shrine
chewed out from the inside
Mistaking pure adrenaline for being alive
We’re all fucked
And we like to fuck around
With other spouses in this town
So Gag Yourself
And pray the rain won’t come
Fuck your pictures
Fuck your hashtags
Fuck your Sunday’s best and who you’re trying to impress
Fuck your stupid cat
Fuck the log in my eye
Fuck your pretend-a-fucking-settled life
Between the present and the past,
There are new prints under your dress
And secrets you protect
(Still living in regret), you can’t undo
And can’t forget,
The bridge is burning at both ends
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8. |
Sk8 & Decoy
00:40
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I don't like jumping hippies and I'm terrified of heights
But Fat Music for Fat People was a comp that changed my life
Afraid to drop in, I'll just stick to ollies in the grass
And lose my shit for stops and riffs that kick your ass
Somewhere out by Berkely I picked up a gnarly scar
Trying to land a kickflip for Koston in his car
I didn't get Adidas merch or Berrics YouTube fame
But I can shred a Squire and make it feel like Much The Same
Don't mean to fake the skate or to sing on your behalf
But I grew up on Tony Hawk and bands on Epitaph
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Shrug Dealer New York, New York
Loud, fast, melodic NYC punk/hardcore band.
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