1. |
Born the Enemy
03:50
|
|||
|
We knew that we were the enemy from the day that we were born. We're so fucking rebellious. We're so worthy of their scorn. We've got such bad attitudes, and we're gonna smash the state. The last thing I smashed was a drinking glass, and I find it hard to hate. I find it hard to be honest when we're all working together 'cause I'm not an artist -- I'm just a shitty writer. Maybe we're just falling down 'cause the world doesn't revolve around the sun and our group classifications are what we make them. I don't believe in the individual. We've had the shittiest weather over the past two weeks, and just now can I see the sun coming down -- the first summer sunset that I've ever seen. We're gonna play a numbers game, and we're gonna sell CDs. We'll measure our success in drinking games. Your voices are all that I need.
|
||||
2. |
Fuck You, Kiiks
01:51
|
|||
|
I don't want your money, I don't want your greed, I don't want your cunning 'cause I have got a life of my own. You try to teach me the way that you live. You try to make me one of you. You know I've got a life of my own.
|
||||
3. |
Beerhorse: The Song
04:19
|
|||
|
I never knew things could be so affecting. I wasn't aware of the power of those words. I try not to offend my friends, but sometimes they just think the worst. But two months ago we were laughing and drinking and people didn't have to play their cards. I know that we were always taking sides, but there were times when we could feign support. These passive games are getting old, and I don't know why they take a toll so why can't we just be friends without so many pretensions? Hey friends, we're not politicking. We're not fighting for flags. These guitars aren't for fighting, they're for dancing with your friends, and this network hierarchy is making a mess of our social circles. Hey friends, we are not a community 'cause we are fighting on these grounds that we can barely see, but we're fighting anyway. But the ground isn't stable. No, we've torn it all thin. Every action's for a game that we barely know we're in. The players are all wearing face masks, and they carry no sticks. We're just sitting down in circles. We're just laying down our bricks. Hey friends, there's no room for hypocrisy. I called myself a preacher where everyone could see, and I didn't know it was such a big deal.
|
||||
4. |
The Keeper
01:38
|
|||
|
It's not so much that I'm shattered as piece by piece is being torn away from me. The machine is pulling at my sleeves. I'm a guitar and a voice and some strings. And I will keep moving on; there's too much here to dwell on. I took myself and put it in pieces and boxes to sell. I hate these lines. I just say things to take up my time.
|
||||
5. |
Partial Preacher
03:13
|
|||
|
I knew the world was ending by the sound of the voices. Feeling like the town was falling down -- our indulgences and our vices. We're a guilty people, and I'm the conscience pleaser. I told myself I'm the king of the world's releasers. I'm a partial preacher. I held up a sign, and it was a song. It told the world to revolutionize, and a couple people sang along. I was never a rabble rouser. I'm a couch crowder. I'm a partial preacher. I'm a crowd pleaser. Never knew that meaning was the answer. We'll sing and hear no one else.
|
||||
6. |
Stir Fry Paati
01:36
|
|||
|
I'm not a preacher -- why would I want to be caught up in the modern times, just a thief of the people, pathetic and lonely? Preying on the time of people not knowing what they want, but they're hoping for something new. Everything is the way that it's always been. These things, they don't come to me. They don't come to me naturally of what's real and what's fake today. I can't help how I feel about the state of the world and the condition of these pathetic and prophetic people.
|
||||
7. |
Nothing is Real
04:21
|
|||
|
I was once a tailor. I made expensive things by playing with my thread and my strings. I could make a shirt or a tapestry. No one knew how I played the sewing machine so I went from my place to my home, put a space between me and the blanket I made. I didn't know how to pay off this loan -- a debt to the service I made up, a debt to the people that paid me. I couldn't make a living off these things so I gave them away for free. I can't be a man who lives in loneliness. I don't know how to string together concepts, and the physical bits aren't making it any easier to play and sing and make real things. I was once a carpenter. I played with wood. A small price to pay for freedom, I was cold and misunderstood. I could make the house and the shelf and the whole set. I still didn't know how to pay off this debt. I can't be the man who plays the beats I make, and I don't know how to tie these symbols. The woodgrain and the land on the plains aren't making it any easier to play and sing and play and sing again and again and again. I'm a story. I'm not real. I'm a book on a shelf with some pages and pictures and shit. Nothing is real.
|
||||
8. |
1950s Prom Song
02:10
|
|||
|
These thoughts late at night, lying in my bed, playing with the light, making shadows with my hands. My eyes can't see but my feet can. So, why do my dreams deceive? Why does my mind go where it pleases? I'm not hiding. I'm not kind. There's some things that just can't be left behind. I'm trying, but there's a space between the things I can do and the things that I face. So, why am I friends with him in all my dreams? What does that even mean? That I can't fall down? Maybe I'm just broken. These thoughts go through my head. I'm different now than I've ever been. We won't go home. We're never going home.
|
||||
9. |
||||
|
I wore a diamond shirt, a present from the place that I worked. I took a share, and I brought it home. The kids ate in another state. We were so alone. We fought in the sky, battles with demons and settled lights, and I beat them. I knocked them right down. The stars hit my face. Our guests from outer space, they knocked us right down. So, I put on a fucking cape and I took in the landscape. The stars were beating down from the brightened night sky. But I wasn't scared, and I told you, "baby, I might not be coming home, all right?" So, what do we need in a place like this where our homes our leveled and our stores are bricks? I think that things were what we made them. It's time to start over. It's time to rebuild them.
|
||||
10. |
Swift Blind Justice
02:52
|
|||
|
I once held guns and bitter men at the ends of them. We took our spaces and we filled our lines. We went from space to space, and we took the time to polish our shoes and listen to Bruce. He said, "Never surrender and never give up. Let's take some time to roll our jeans up. We're the people that we want to be. And we could be friends with the other folks. We could wander the land like ghosts without reaching out to anybody." We're on the right side, I promise you. In the basement space the faces of our favorite bands came to life. At the time they weren't aware that the time was exactly right to catch a crowd and wander in, to take some drinks and play to win, to play guitar and stare up in the sky. We're on the right side, I promise you, and if we weren't on the right side, we'd be in the wrong, and I know that statement is obvious. We can change our direction. We can change our course. Let's make the best of all of us.
|
||||
If you like Douglas Shields & The X-Factors, you may also like:
Susan - TV Girls EP
by Susan (LA)
Three Susans agree, this sweet and sour jangle punk EP from the kooky L.A. trio is not to be missed.
go to album
Rays’ post-punk explorations of existential dread hang together effortlessly.
go to album
Susan - As I Was LP
by Susan (LA)
A second full-length of skittering guitar pop and kooky harmonies from L.A. trio Susan.
go to album
Manic, twitchy, highwire punk rock from The Hipshakes, available in lovely magenta vinyl.
go to album
The new album from Italian psych-rock outfit Bee Bee Sea has heavy punk and power pop notes.
go to album
THE DIRTIEST "Cento Shot" EP
by The Dirtiest
Hooky, greasy garage punk from the always-reliable Slovenly label, The Dirtiest bolt big hooks to snarling riffs.
go to album
Peppy garage punk with a positive message recalls the sunny fuzz of early Dum Dum Girls releases.
go to album
