Sunday, April 26, 2009

Sister City LP2

Will probably look like this:

1. Move-In Day
2. Bricks and Beams
3. I Always Appreciate the Irony
4. Ellis Island Blues
5. Reinventing Adm Linder
6. The Entrepreneur
8. Fuck that Guitar Shit at 3AM
9. Laurels
10. Playing Peter
11. Going to Pinneberg
12. How Much

With these songs being recorded for other things:

I love you and stuff
I can still write songs
The Last Song
And Time is slipping through your little fingers
Some prefer nettles
Faith Healer
Big and Small Words

I cannot wait to do this.

Sunday, April 19, 2009


Adam Duritz was using autotune before T-Pain even owned a top hat apparently.

Four minutes and thirty nine seconds:


Yesterday, at the Ice Cream Factory outside of Peppercorns, I was confronted by a wicked set of circumstances. Their specialty sundaes (saturdaes as they call them (my faithful readers can probably guess how I feel about that)) are all named for Worcester landmarks and schools. There's the WPI. There's the Holy Cross. And there in front of me was the Clark Cougar. Chocolate ice cream, peanut butter cups, and hot fudge. It's not my favorite combination of things to put in a sundae, but it was the closest thing on the menu. So I chose Clark. Again. Obviously I finished it. Who wouldn't finish ice cream?

Interesting sidenote: As I write this, Murder by Death is incessantly singing that "there's still time to start again."

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Some Prefer Nettles

There are times when I am happy
Smiling in and out of phase
My teeth are stained
But I am not embarassed

There are three words I would say
To any doubting thomas I meet
Lick my wounds and feel my breath
I am alive

What does it mean?
Please forgive me
I didn't mean to get
All existentialist
But these things sneak up

There are times I am a child
Armed with chalk and endless blacktop
But we both know
I'm not cut out to be an artist

More and more I am an adult
Living life like you can win
Or more importantly
Something you can lose

What a story
We will have to tell
Our children's children
All the things we actually felt
But they won't see it

There's a formula I follow
I guess it's possible you've picked up
But you should stick like glue
To what or who you know

Who am I to give advice?

What bears repeating
Is something I'm not sure
I've got a good grip on
So what right do I have to put a chorus in my songs

Sing along, sing along
With egos proud and voices strong
Sing along, sing along, sing along