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The Grand Spontanean

by Telethon

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    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.
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  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    "The Grand Spontanean" is finally out on vinyl as a collaboration between our own Halloween Records and the beautiful people over at Good Land Records. Milwaukee represent!

    This is a totally deluxe-ified set. Two 12"s and a 7" containing our ~90 minute rock opera, on pink/green/clear colored vinyl, in a double gatefold jacket. The album's been totally remastered for vinyl and we promise it will deliver you unto sonic valhalla, baby.

    Comes with a 46-page Playbill, a couple stickers, and a handwritten note from us!

    Includes unlimited streaming of The Grand Spontanean via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 5 days
    edition of 300 

      $23 USD or more 

     

  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    A pretty rad 46-page Playbill/Slaybill booklet that serves as the liner notes for our very long 2017 rock opera "The Grand Spontanean". Full of art and lyrics for every single song on the album, as well as some notes and stuff.

    PLEASE NOTE!!!: The Playbill comes with any & all physical copies of The Grand Spontanean that you buy from us. This is just for if you only want the Playbill, or want an extra one, or lost your original one, or lent it to your neighbor and they didn't give it back because that's just *so* typical of them. Okay?!

    Includes unlimited streaming of The Grand Spontanean via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 3 days

      $5 USD

     

  • Limited Edition CD Box Set
    Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    That's right, instead of packaging our giant rock opera in some lame slippy sleeves or jewel cases, we decided to go all out and do a LIMITED EDITION BOX SET for the CD Release. These ~6"x9"x1" boxes are somewhere between one of those old school longboxes that CDs used to come in and a vintage big box PC game.

    Inside each hand-assembled cardboard box, you'll find:
    * Our double-disc, 87-minute, 30-track-long album "The Grand Spontanean" on CD!
    * A printed Playbill/zine with individual artwork and lyrics for each and every song, liner notes, & more!
    * A photo of our ugly mugs with a hand-written note scrawled on the back!
    * Telethon and Halloween Records stickers

    Includes unlimited streaming of The Grand Spontanean via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

    Sold Out

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about

We made a sprawling five-act rock opera about the internet, culture, human relationships, and the apocalypse. We hope you love it.

ACT I: Bad Reputation (tracks #1-8)
ACT II: Cold Sweat (tracks #9-13)
ACT III: Fight or Fall (tracks #14-20)
ACT IV: Running Back (tracks #21-26)
ACT V: Remembering (tracks #27-30)

credits

released September 29, 2017

Telethon is Erik Atwell (Percussion), Gene 'Nate Johnson' Jacket (Keys), Alex Meylink (Bass), Jack Sibilski (Lead Guitar), and Kevin Tully (Rhythm Guitar/Lead Vocals).

Produced/engineered/mixed/mastered by Jack Shirley at the Atomic Garden in East Palo Alto, CA.

Guest vocals performed by (in order of appearance) Chris Farren, Roger Lima, Franz Nicolay, and Laura Stevenson. Winds/strings arranged & recorded by Peter Hess at Fort St. Marks in Brooklyn, NY. Performed by Peter Hess, Justin Mullens, Adam Dotson, and Dana Lyn. Additional keys, accordion, harmonica, and banjo performed by Franz Nicolay. Voiceover by Bob Ball, Sara Turner, and Michael Fell.

All songs written by Telethon, with a few scatterered lyrical samples/nods to No Doubt, Father John Misty, Titus Andronicus, The Killers, and Carly Simon.

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Telethon Wisconsin

Powerpoppunkrock for the modern kids

Thank you for listening.
telethonband@gmail.com

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Track Name: The Signal
Instrumental
Track Name: Apocalypse When
The ideal me’s got an ideal life
Don’t compare it to the one that I’m leading
Seems like every night a showdown or shitshow leaves one of us swollen or bleeding
Ah, christ, that’s a figure of speech
I’d swear on the bible but I don’t think it’d mean anything
When you asked how I feel, did you expect explanation?
Or were you just stopping by, you know, dropping in

The truth is I’m not sure what’s wrong
Perhaps it’s best to leave the pain right where the pain belongs
‘Cause it’s fiending for daylight
And it’s got you in its sights
It’s only a matter of time, and I fear that it won’t be long

So leave me on the seat of my car
Leave me on the seat of my car
I realize trying to be present’s a pretty tall order
So leave me on the seat of my car
While I ruminate on what it all could mean

Never did I ever intend to throw a wrench in the plan tonight
I might’ve got out of hand tonight
Could be I’m feeling alright tonight
But what of tomorrow?
When it’s recalled that I’m unequipped
Fall into the same old traps
And the same old words dribble from my lips

It’s madness obstructing the heart
It’s madness taking aim at the heart
Right now you understand and good god that’s a blessing
But this madness gonna tear me apart

If you’re feeling able-minded, there’s an arrogance at fault
If you’re checking how you handle, there’s a method to it all
Not a question of your morals, but a question of your sign
How much you care to hold; Well, how often do you sigh?
There’s a disappointed child in every adult who decided
that they couldn’t bear the burden of the garden out behind
A construct took these fingers and it ripped apart my day
That child, still disappointed, all he wants to do is…
But all that he can stand to do is…
Track Name: Succinct, the Optimist
Concentrate the whole time
A Facetime call won’t do the justice it deserves and
I know it bothers you when beating around the bush I
Miss the point you tried to make and it’s a white lie
To say it didn’t take

I know, I know, there must be some between, yeah
Someone to reach and pull the darkness out of me
A bit astounded by own passivity
So I am still in wait for somewhere to hide away

The scratching at the soul is a tough one to describe
Blind to a stranger. What do they think they’ll find but
Tea leaves and bottles
Steel wool to keep the mice from chewing up the model
Parthenon of modern life

I know, I know, there must be some between, yeah
Some tires to screech and scare the bullshit out of me
You’re in denial of your own mortality and that right about sums it up
Succinct, the optimist

I know, I know, there must be some between, yeah
Someone to listen, shout solutions out at me
Intimidated by the possibility that I could solve it all
With TLC and CBT
Track Name: Doctor
PROTAG:
Doctor. Can I call you that? I know you don’t have a degree, but
Doctor just rolls off the tongue a bit more naturally to me.

Doctor, seems you got a problem with the way that I’m living my life
You’re shoveling and you’re scraping down. It’s cutting me just like a
. . . . . . .
If we’re aiming for open, we’ll have to try harder
We gotta destroy that levee I’m guarding
It wasn’t expected, now i’m begging your pardon
There’s nary a glimmer, so gimme your card and I’ll be gone

Despite the benefits I hear result from talking out your problems,
I can’t seem to see how steps that help others could ever help me
There’s a live wire coursing through my genes that puppeteers apprehension and fear
I hope that’s clear. Can we proceed at a distance? you know how I’m different

Doctor, suppose there’s a reason for all the creaks and whistling upstairs
Suppose those reasons are manifest in the hours I’ve spent tracing lines in the sand
Those lines have been drawn to a credible purpose
Let in too many people, your emotions will surface
I couldn’t imagine that kind of despair,
so I’m putting up safeguards and I’m keeping them there

Maybe I don’t know what I don’t know
As the scholars tell me, ignorance is bliss, I don’t need fixing
Got the right to get pissed; piss drunk to avail cheap, easy assistance
The ones who matter have to stay by my side; a pack to hide behind
May disappoint them time to time
But c’est la vie to me that’s life

THE DOCTOR:
Seems you got anger
Why not try sadness?
Seems you got rage
Why not try crying?
I know it thrills you to burn off at someone
but you’re gonna lose them, son, if you don’t start trying

PROTAG:
I see your point
I see the consequences stacking up downstream
My circle closing
I can see it now, what I hold dear to me
Won’t be there always, be there when i’m sick and frail, old and grey
If i don’t get lighter,
They can all start leaving,
They can all stop loving back,
That’s where we’re heading,
The choir sings for me,
Single cell of tragedy,
They witness and they pity me,
It’s getting damn near deafening
But if I decide to get off this ride, can I?
Track Name: He's Right
He’s right
He’s right
It’s as sure as the day is bright and the night is manic depressive, long, and dark

But if he’s right
If he’s right
From the sound of it, there’s an issue with my intuition.
I’ve gotta do my part

But that’s a challenge
That's a challenge
With a brain on fire and habits,
Tough to break, subconscious cycles, wasted effort;
Dead end down every passage

I can try it
I can try it
But beware don’t raise your hopes, i don’t tend to get stuck on tactics That I find too hard
That seem Sisyphean or daunting
Can’t expect this’ll last too long
Track Name: The Paranoid Blur
I seek reprieve in the second bedroom
Converted to home office
Where i framed some vinyl records
"Blue", "Rumors", and "Born To Run,"
Which i note as a little standard
Conduct an eBay search for "Lodger."
Four clicks later, eight bucks broker
In a week it arrives at my home

And I’m still miserable
This is acceptable

I jump out of my bed already feeling fatigued
I can't remember why i stayed up, now I’m weak in the knees
I check my inbox, making breakfast, swiping left to delete
I microwave some stale coffee from the previous week
i burnt the shit out of my toast cause i forgot it was toasting stamping seals of approval via microinteractions
Tell somebody i can’t do it cause I'm spread too thin
Tell myself that tomorrow i’ll try meditation again
And lament the reminders repeating
They flash across awareness, try to focus on breathing
But my senses are heightened, my synapses abuzz
So i can’t focus on nothing 'cept the tabs i just opened above

It’s like black tar heroin
Loop it into the waves again
The thrum of my betterment
How soonish can i forget
Inform my next of kin
Once the arrangements begin
Bury me in my notifications
To the static you hear between stations

Still, there’s something so divine about a screen in your eyes
Like you’re sitting on the top of the world
There’s nothing like a homebound clickaround night
To flatten out the paranoid blur

There’s something so divine
[Stare at myself]
About a screen in your eyes
[Blue glow of the LCD]
It’s like you’re sitting on the top of the world
[Mad at myself]
Nothing like a homebound clickaround night
[2 star rated and trembling]
To flatten out the paranoid blur
Track Name: Tiny Rushes
Sorry, still at home right now
I’m caught up in this spiderweb
This lonesome crowded wasteland
Oh, mankind
I had not expected
I’d be here on a third consecutive night
Yet here I am regardless
Spending time, and spending money I don’t have to spend
My time and money here but still I do
A habit that’s enabled by a tiny rush of dopamine
Whenever
I leave raw thought on a page that is not mine
No one requested it but
they sometimes pay it mind
I’m high
I feel better here
Until the brush is cleared and I’m revealed
A lonesome, tired bearded man
Mid-20s
Passing through
In blue jeans, midnight, up to nothing
Layered windows
Untitled folders on his desktop
Big ideas scatter and they whine,
dump out as quick as they arrived
He’s lost the pigment in his skin
His friends and family worry
That he's lost all his affection
As the tiny rush of dopamine lures him in again,
but this time was different...
Track Name: The Page at the End of the Internet
Suddenly i found it
The page at the end of the internet
As i did sink through trails of links
Somehow i landed there

The address was all asterisks
No paths leading in or out of it
A visit counter at the top read zero-zero-one

The background: tiny tiled stars in the night sky
A midi file droning single notes at a time
A row of gifs of planet earth, all their rotations in line
A cluster block of times new roman all caps center aligned

And this is what it said:

I LOOKED INTO THE MIRROR. THE PERSON WHO LOOKED BACK WAS NOT MYSELF. THEY WERE THE OTHER. GOD'S UNFORTUNATE MESSENGER. THEY HAD A MESSAGE FOR ME. FOR THE WHOLE WORLD. THEY TOLD ME THE TRUTH. THEY TOLD ME THE WORLD WOULD END WHEN ITS CORE STOPPED SPINNING. THERE WAS AN URGENCY TO THEIR MESSAGE. THE EVENT WOULD HAPPEN SOON. I SAW THE EARTH FROM SPACE. THE GREAT BLUE DOT. BUT IT WASN'T BLUE. IT WAS NOW RED. LIKE THE WHOLE WORLD WAS ABLAZE. ONE SUPERCONTINENT WRAPPING AROUND ITS CENTER WITH ITS OCEANS ON ITS TOP AND BOTTOM. I SAW THE WORLD BREAK. HUGE CRACKS IN THE EARTH. IN THEM THE THRONE OF BEELZEBUB WAS VISIBLE. HIS RED HOT GAZE BURNT THE SOULS RIGHT OUT OF THOSE UNFORTUNATE TO BE TOO CLOSE. I SAW THE EARTH STOP MOVING., ATMOSPHERE STILL TRAVELED. THOUSAND MILE WINDS STILL SPINNING ON A STATIONARY EARTH. THOUSAND MILE WINDS STILL SPINNING ON A STATIONARY EARTH. MOUNTAINTOPS TORN OFF THEIR BASES. TREES VIOLENTLY UPROOTED. A YOUNG BOY RIPPED FROM HIS MOTHERS ARMS WHICH WERE RIPPED FROM THEIR SOCKETS ENTIRELY. ALL SENT SKYWARD AT A SPEED I COULD BARELY COMPREHEND. I SAW MEN WHOSE FEET ONCE STOOD FIRMLY ON THE GROUND FLYING. NO, FLOATING. HELPLESSLY FLAILING. THEIR EYES BULGED. THEIR STOMACHS DISTENDED TO THE POINT OF BURSTING. THEN THEY BURST. THEIR VISCERA FLOATING AWAY FROM THEM AS THEIR LIFELESS BODIES LOOKED ON. I SAW MEN, WOMEN, CHILDREN. THEIR SKIN SO BURNED AND COVERED IN BLISTERS THEY NO LONGER LOOKED HUMAN. THE SUN'S RADIATION TURNING THEM INTO SOMETHING OTHERWORLDLY. THEN THE VISION STOPPED. THE PERSON IN THE MIRROR STARED BACK. THE STRANGEST THING HAPPENED. A BURNING SENSATION IN THE BACK OF MY SKULL. FOUR NUMBERS BRANDED INTO THE NEURAL CAVITIES. DAYS. HOURS. MINUTES. SECONDS. THE NUMBERS KEPT FLIPPING. CHANGING. COUNTING DOWN. I KNEW WHEN THESE NUMBERS REACHED ZERO THE CORE WOULD STOP SPINNING. THE WORLD WOULD END. THE PROPHECY WOULD BECOME TRUE. THE NUMBERS ARE STILL THERE. NOW I WILL RELAY THEM TO YOU. COUNTING DOWN.
37 DAYS, 12 HRS, 33 MINS, 53 SEC.
37 DAYS, 12 HRS, 33 MINS, 50 SEC.
37 DAYS, 12 HRS, 33 MINS, 47 SEC.
Track Name: Punctuation!
I must’ve ran it over in my head
A thousand times or more
First came disbelief, then hesitance,
now I’m so convinced
I’m sweating through the sheets

It can’t be real
Yet it’s so sure of itself
like an excerpt from a tome
if our time is up
then I won’t get better, better to settle
I’ll cease to be
Along with psychotherapy,
and twitter feeds
much ado
it’s true

How will all the people know?
How will they cope
when they find out that the world will soon stand
Still I’ll take it in for all of them and
Keep it hid for their last several weeks’ good

I wasn’t doing anything
You can’t ruin the already ruined
Although it’s unexpected,
it won’t get better, best not to meddle

I’ll let ‘em all live clear
while I marinate in fear
Armageddon contour all my truth

as the season changes
it’ll be a little strange
the final leaves’ll fall from branches
and i’ll never get better, that really means never

So quit with the artful bend over backwards
The grimace of trying too hard
This fixes your problems, it switches your purpose
you’re doomed, it’s true, you’re doomed, it’s true
Track Name: Wrung
Don’t it always seem to go
We press and we obsess about the things that we can’t know
Finding answers nested eventually
Never end up phrased the way we hoped that they would be

In thirty days, mankind will be erased
You can try to render sensical but it leaves a funny taste
Because everything’s been leading up to this point
Watch everything get thrown into the void and destroyed

At a thousand miles an hour
the days that you spent shopping, sleeping, and smoking pot
Seem impossible now
At least you figured it out

So as I stated earlier, I know
How it’s all going to happen
But no concept of where I’ll go after
Calming, but help me along
What can I say to the regions beyond?
‘It’s really been a long while. Was hoping we could catch up at some point soon.
Will await your reply. P.S. Send a little sunlight won’t you?”
Shit!

Up the steps into the church on down my street
Everybody’s strolling easy
These people don’t mind, no, they’re not worried about nothing
Got a grip on their existentiality
And ooh, ooh, I bet if they knew
Their time was running out so quickly
They’d remain stoic, some would probably be happy
They’d make believers out of anyone
Might make a believer out of me

Have I got this wrong?
Been mistaken about it all along
Have I got this all wrong?
Is this the ticket to keeping on the keeping on?
Did I have it wrong now, baby, or am I stuck repeating a line?
Salvation. Paradise. But are they mine?

I’m open to the experience of dying
Other topics are rattling in my mind
If Hell’s not real, then why am I afraid of going?
If God’s not real, then why do I still apologize to it?

At the core, a young man got exactly what he asked for
A young man feels remorse because what he then found out
Is the core of the earth will soon abruptly cease its spinning
There’s terror in unknowing
There’s more in what’s in store

This will be five dark weeks of questioning my judgment
Rewinding reminders from the heart
The pitch black holes of hindsight, do I trust them?
Been hearing false reminders from the start

Stop making sense there’s none in there to find
Track Name: Flatpack
Something about the way Violet flips her hair
While she’s paging through some fabric swatches
I’m slumping in a Poang chair
Does she sense malaise
See it wash over my eyes
We struggle cramming curtain rods in the trunk of her Passat outside

And it’s cold. I watch her go.
Everything’s on hold.
East Palo Alto Ikea rooftop parking space is simply not the place.

She’s talking up a trip to Bristol, Connecticut
For an interview. LinkedIn connections.
Two days after the world stops spinning.
I’m gnawing on a fingernail.
She asks me what’s gone wrong.
Startled, say I’m leery of the way things seem to move along

Without your say so
Everything unfolds
Tomorrow’s never guaranteed
But a week from now’s concrete?
I guess i’m a little in my own head
Might need some time alone
And Like that, I let her go
The simplicity astounded even me
Track Name: A Martyr's View from The View at the Marriott Marquis
All these people
don’t they look pretty
they watch the football game and
walk above the city, oh
they don’t mind
Pay no mind, they don’t mind, pay no mind

all these people
it’s such a pity
their game don’t matter now
and neither does the city
to the sunbeams, to the moonlight, to the sky
joan of arc, st. stephen, john brown, paul, and i
Track Name: The Page at the End of the Internet (Reprise)
Suddenly, they found it
the page at the end of the internet
long story short, the pressure’s off and i’m not sure how to feel

Everybody’s posting it
The page at the end of the internet
Their frequency is disbelief, oh yeah they’re just like me

But I know where that hallway leads to
If you’ve been following along, then baby, so should you!
Imagine my own personal transition, diversified and multiplied by a couple of billion

Wonder how they found it
the page at the end of the internet
will it be catastrophe? a vessel for apathy?
We’ll see.
Track Name: Underture
Instrumental
Track Name: Temporarily
Temporarily
We misplaced our rationality
Heard from some channel that We’re going extinct
Locked eyes with the others, and started to think
about the way it’s all gone, and the way that it goes,
Seemed strangely familiar
A likely scenario

Temporarily!
Cut ties with the old mundanity!
Maybe even embraced; praised the careful design
All hail the countdown to untimely demise
Relief from the strains of our uncomfortable lives
Detachment, ‘shit happens’ as the rallying cry

And who can blame us?
No one’ll save us
Turns out our contributions were all meaningless
Sucks to go before we planned, but being here has been a drag
In summative retrospect, if we can use that term yet

Good riddance to our cold mother earth
and her axial rotation (which apparently we’re not worth)
Oh! Here’s to the good times, here’s to the home team
Pour one out now, or hold your peace for eternity

Temporarily
Out the window goes a sense of sanity
Amazing how quickly a culture so strictly
Invested in reason, finding feasible
workarounds gave into the latter half of
‘get busy living, or get busy dying’
Track Name: Stillwave (feat. Chris Farren)
PROTAG:
They locked down the gates of Disneyland last night
I saw it on the news
Citing the riots up and down Katella Avenue
I watched that news reporter stumble with her prompter and I wondered soon would news reports stop, too?

Being the good American I am
I knew I had to run
Could be the last time, so I thought it prob'ly best to take the 1
Traffic standstill, oceanside, sprawling desperate humankind
the Pacific was tiny, sake of timing, I kicked back to the 101

152 to 5
Not sure anyone still alive
barely any cars in that whole time
And this suburban kid turned city dweller
felt a tear drip from his eye at having
never really drove just to appreciate the drive

that sentiment extinguished quickly
when i caught the sight of a 50 something crewcutted dad-looking guy
throw an empty garbage can through the window of a best buy

and carry out a flat screen
a couple sets of DVDs
of How I Met Your Mother
"Motherfucker! Put 'em down" I heard a disembodied voice call out,
and that guy got tackled to the ground
by a woman with a nametag and a bright blue polo shirt
drew a sickly looking crowd
as she kicked his teeth into the dirt
when he eventually stopped moving
we stared grimly at his body
till he got up, grabbed his glasses, made a b-line to the hobby lobby

I left the scene, aghast and terrified.
i took it as a warning of the horrors that could lie ahead
in wake of the announcement, 'human race to be eliminated,
but something in there dissonated, and left me quite astounded

It was that
SOME PEOPLE STILL WAVE
AMIDST THE FUCK OFFs AND THE MUGGERS
As they WALK THEIR DOGS THROUGH PARKS
AND THEY HOLD HANDS WITH ONE ANOTHER
IT STRIKES ME AS CLICHE
LIKE SOMETHING YOU SEE IN MOVIES
BUT THE MOVIE’S COMING TRUE
AND PEOPLE RECOGNIZE EXACTLY WHAT TO DO

White knuckled, I spent three more hours
Captive in the cockpit, doing 98, denying all impulse
to simply pile through the guardrails that envelop the highway;
to roll the credits my way, but a morbid curiosity

took control
the second I saw
fluxing hills of smoke and smog
pluming over burbank and north hollywood
the great domain of angels
looking kinda like I thought it would

the cars, the trucks, the busses
there they were
a jam heading the other way
A mass exodus from LA
And there I was, ever contrarian, heading in
to watch the show
I took the exit to ball road, stopped on the street and slammed my doors, i started walking
so anxious and excited, i was talking to myself

i said
Am I depraved?
Or am I going insane?
Did I drive all of this way
For validation of my shame?
Got no use in wondering now
There's a Kingdom I gotta see
A toppled idol of optimism and blueblood ingenuinity
And fantasy, adventure -- The honest American dream!
Rendered futile in the absence of a future
An 85-acre emblem of what now will never be

Jumped a chain link fence into Disneyland this afternoon
Accessed from the side, straight through warehouses and garages,
Near the back of Tom Sawyer Island
Past splash mountain, with its flume completely dried,
The Haunted Mansion looked so normal,
Club 33 had its doors swung open wide

Fascinating though it was,
I found the atmosphere nightmarish
Not a soul in sight to speak of
Magic technicolor bareness
I mean no noise, no cheer, no instrumental loops
Just themed facades inside a vacuum
That was until I met the Troops

Finally felt the castle spires dwarfing me
Warm sensations quickly pinned as familiarity
Until i spied the upturned LAPD
K-9 Unit Crown Victoria
Half submerged beneath one of the false brick turrets
A gigantic concrete base
A bronze Walt Disney lay below it
Hand outstretched to partner’s, 40 feet away under
A sign reading “Tomorrowland” on an ornate metal globe
A sawed-off wooden plank above it -- all it said was “No”

I heard murmurs past the drawbridge
Slurs I couldn’t understand
knew beyond the iron gates stood what they called Fantasyland
I couldn’t bare to see the fantasy these times had wrought in full 3D
But, again, that curiosity! I guess it got the best of me
I tiptoed in, my head halfway rotated o’er my shoulder
My breaths grew short and stuttering, the wind was blowing so much colder,
and then I’d say about a hundred living corpses pivoted and all moved
toward me silently and slowly, then with
grey eyes and thin black hair
What appeared to be the leader of the group said,

THE LEADER OF THE TROOPS:
‘Welcome in, o weary traveler, rather new member of the Troops
this is our land now, for the next few days now,
We can live the way we want and run it any way now
I know why you came here, you wanted just to disappear
Away from friends and family, from all responsibility;
To slip inside this world of optimism, ingenuity, et cetera
The saunter around the promenade musta learned you better

Judging by the look upon your face
I tell ya boy, well that’s okay
Why don’t I give you a tour of all the hovels in this place

The Casey Junior train
It don’t roll around no more,
Its tunnels something of a haven now
For junk pokers and whores
And Snow White, Pinocchio, Peter Pan
in their respective buildings
But those buildings’ve been taken over
In fact they’re almost spilling

With the detritus of our country
I’m sorry to put it so bluntly
Let’s keep moving, shall we?

Ohhhhh, that’s Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride
The site of several suicides since it closed
If you take a look inside, past the switchbacks and the turnstiles
You might find what you’re looking for, if you don’t
Well, you’d better watch your back
Behind those blacklit plywood flats
Something sinister is sneaking, stealing souls
Don’t think it can be seen,
It takes the forms of dying dreams, childhood memories, and the places in between
OH YEAH!
but you’ll be fine, there is a hell in that world, just remember that
The little devils deep inside they know precisely what you lack
You may be perfect, straight and narrow, but they’re planning their attack

Hey! Buddy! Where the hell ya headed?
We was only gettin’ started!!!
Track Name: The Improbable New Sensations
my jog turned to a stroll
the saddest stroll you’ve ever seen
past the popcorn stall and gift shops
lining the ruin that was main street

then i heard some noise erupting
from the fire station window (defunct as it ever was)
solid state amps and guitars tuning,
an insane mechanized purring

being the good American i am, I knew I had to run
up the stairway to inspect
at the top, a door, a sheet a paper stapled into it that said
‘to all who come to this happy place, welcome in’

stepped into a crimson red apartment
with a pristine floral carpet
victorian furniture upturned against the wall
a guy with a mic said “come on inside, we was only gettin’ started”
Track Name: "GENERATOR" by The Improbable New Sensations
//The generator keeps us up! Keeps this whole show running! And every time it gets too loud, a reminder that it’s working! We will all fall. No hope left at all. Aside from this beacon of light. The generator keeps us alive. Generator, generator!//
Track Name: "UNTIL THE BALL STOPS" by The Improbable New Sensations
//So you’ve been

Cut off before ya had yr chance to
Make any difference to any other person but yourself
Feeling bad for all the visions left unopened on your bookshelf

Well I

can’t speak for anybody but me
while the populace is panicked i’m a motherfucking palm tree
the hinges coming loose, i’ve got nothing to lose
except my loser dead end day job and my sleeve tattoo

so it’s alright
despite the notion
california’s won’t be splitting to the ocean
hop offa this plane, on to the next
no use shitting our jeans
we’ll be right here until the ball stops spinning

no one’s idea of fun is looking around
at all their neighbors in their houses with their shades all pulled down
we’ve got 2 weeks left yet to come and to go
but i’m digressing, i’m arrested by futility ya know so

help me out! yeah yeah
ya know ya gotta help me out! yeah yeah
oh dontcha put me on the back burner
Ya know ya gotta help me out

tell me
It’s alright, despite the notion (over and in)
the big illusion of perpetual m-motion (last call for sin)
wasn’t worth mine, yours or your mom’s time (when everything’s lost, the battle is won)
Cross all the T’s (in all these things that i’ve done)
we’ll be right here until the ball stops spinning//
Track Name: "MY SECOND-TO-LAST MONDAY" by The Improbable New Sensations
//this is my second to last monday!
my last october 23rd
i never noticed this day before
but now i will because there won’t be anymore

i’m so afraid of what i’m gonna see
the wreckage and the blood encircling me
but i’d rather go this way than a random clogged artery, oh yeah,
all is lost.. in that way i guess we’ve won//
Track Name: Notches on the Scale
In a dream, swear I heard Gabriel blow a sour note through the rain
It knocked me down a couple notches on the scale that day
Woolly mammoths marching fleet foot through the banks of the LA
It knocked me down a couple notches on the scale that day
A bush burned and screamed ‘What’s the matter, man? ‘Tis but a subtle turn of phrase’
It knocked me down a couple notches on the scale that day
You see sun is ever glistening and the ground it has always quaked
It knocked me down a couple notches on the scale that day
And I am the grand I am. Spontaneous.
Looted a jacket made of leather from a boutique in Silver Lake
It knocked me down a couple notches on the scale that day
The starkness of fluorescent light. 2 AM in the Circle K.
It knocked me down a couple notches on the scale that day
Even when there ain’t no hope left, you can be the highway
It knocked me down a couple notches on the scale that day
And I am the grand I am. Spontaneous.
Track Name: The Runner's High (feat. Roger Lima)
PROTAG:
New brand of thinking I assumed today
Dull dread and fatalism
All of it washed away
The hours ticking put an awful strange spring in my step
From the shoreline, to the outlying
I’m looking everywhere. Everyone’s wasting time.
Feral momentum. Exhilaration sets as I

Stopped presuming that it’s all bad
Stopped concluding I’m miserable
Stopped my circling round the don’t haves
As the don’t haves all turn to won’t

Gone below, the feelings go
You too can get past by
Pan to ground and Pan to sky.
Your modern life’s a lie
Your TV’s broke. Smoked your last smoke.
The kegs have all run dry.
Doomsday impending, true, but I still can’t say
D-I-E

Drove a semi first time today
Couldn’t find the owner, it was parked along the interstate
Key in ignition and a samurai sword on the seat
With a note etched in,

DECEASED SEMI TRUCK DRIVER:
“To anyone who needs it
Keep it steady, kid, I just got the trans fixed
I’ll throw myself from cliffs. immediate west.
My skin’ll rot in the ocean
Won’t get ripped like the rest.
It’s a shame it had to end bad
Thought I’d bust through the gates to see mom and dad.
But it never moves along like that
I’m not the state house out the window, i’m the sill, I’m the goddamn rat

PROTAG:
You know, you never know
How the news’ll pass you by
On that same note, you never know
When you’re gonna wake up enlightened
Subdued the hum
The horror’s numbed
Some call it the runner’s high
Doomsday impending true
So today there’s no way I can…

New brand of thinking I assumed today
Round up your blessings and realize you’ve been OK
A minute here beats a minute not existing any day
I took it north until the tank ran dry
Dove out the driver’s seat to test if I could fly
That fucker coasted and I never saw it stop
Scraped and bruising, I arose, picked my shoes from the blacktop
Track Name: "The Sudden Walk" (by Franz Kafka; read by Franz Nicolay)
When it looks as if you had made up your mind finally to stay at home for the evening, when you have put on your house jacket and sat down after supper with a light on the table to the piece of work or the game that usually precedes your going to bed, when the weather outside is unpleasant so that staying indoors seems natural, and when you have already been sitting quietly at the table for so long that your departure must occasion surprise to everyone, when, besides, the stairs are in darkness and the front door locked, and in spite of all that you have started up in a sudden fit of restlessness, changed your jacket, abruptly dressed yourself for the street, explained that you must go out and with a few curt words of leave-taking actually gone out, banging the flat door more or less hastily according to the degree of displeasure you think you have left behind you, and when you find yourself once more in the street with limbs swinging extra freely in answer to the unexpected liberty you have procured for them, when as a result of this decisive action you feel concentrated within yourself all the potentialities of decisive action, when you recognize with more than usual significance that your strength is greater than your need to accomplish effortlessly the swiftest of changes and to cope with it, when in this frame of mind you go striding down the long streets - then for that evening you have completely got away from your family, which fades into insubstantiality, while you yourself, a firm, boldly drawn black figure, slapping yourself on the thigh, grow to your true stature.

All this is still heightened if at such a late hour in the evening you look up a friend to see how she is getting on.
Track Name: On Companionship (feat. Laura Stevenson)
PROTAG:
For every revelatory
find and change
I have experienced in the last thirty days

There is an absence
a missing part
the other breathing;
another human’s beating heart

but moreover, it’s the talking over hurdles
and the talking out of rashness
the challenges to sadness
that come from

hearing a voice that’s not yours
deflecting every leap of logic
that oozes from your pores

i’m realizing now
that ain’t easy to find
don’t need a body to hold
i need eyes in the unknown
so pick it up fast
while you’ve still got the time
although you hate to admit it, you won’t make it alone

said i’m dying
heard it’s nothing but a chest cold
said i’m nothing
heard you’re something to me
said there’s something i’m not comprehending, where’s the ending
heard you skid half a mile down donohoe street
where we left off
abrupt, your expression
I hadn’t recalled.
that was then, now we’ve ten days left
and i’m wondering if you’re up and what you’re up to

creature of habit
i knew right where to find you
the old video store you worked at
must’ve been midnight

you were bunkered in the back
midway thru ‘after hours’ on a tube tv
and vcr by battery

teri garr and tommy chong and ‘pay to cum’
i stood behind you and i watched
you didn’t notice i had come

to interrupt your silence,
your final moments,
seemed the very last thing i should do,
so i backpedaled away from you

looked happier there
than i’d seen you in a while
after all, ’twas i
needed a guide in the unknown
So, genuine peace,
must stem from being alone.
that’s when you spun me around and put a dent in my shoulder

VIOLET: how’d you find me?
PROTAG: Well, we run our sequence obviously
VIOLET: if that’s true, why aren’t you locked in your home?
I don’t wanna die looking into your eyes
PROTAG: figured so, that’s why i thought i’d get going
VIOLET: ya know, you’re a curse. when i was seeking the best, it was like you actually wanted the worst,
goddammit, boy, you got it. you got those answers you were looking for, don’t look so downtrodden. fuck!

i tried anger, then i tried sadness, then i tried rage, then i tried crying
I bet it thrilled you, to abandon someone
i bet it cauterized quicker cause of just how hard i was trying
i could’ve used someone here
for this world ending ordeal

PROTAG: i’m here right now

VIOLET: But you may as well not be
you can stay, if only for pity
so you hit stucco stead of slinging through the streets
Track Name: Weirdness Flows
we’re side by side
but barely speaking
she comes and goes
she comes and goes

this isn’t love
this isn’t hope
i hope she knows
i know she knows

the fall of man
so fast approaching
So it goes
Weirdness flows

this isn’t love
this isn’t hope
i hope she knows
i know she knows
Track Name: Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve (feat. Laura Stevenson)
we’re side by side
we’re barely speaking
what’s left belies what’s come and gone
no future here on earth
we’ll settle the creeping sensation we spent our time wrong
//it this any different from what we expected?
it’s hastened, of course, but i’m talking results
a pan to the ground and a pan to the sky
so long and goodnight
may our joints turn to rust

Wake, rise, wait, digitize, sleep, repeat

i’m half expecting
a geodesic
sphere to drop
Onto this building
as ryan seacrest
shouts out digits
the other half has reached its limit
the scene is ugly, you could say lurid
our backs to walls
our shades turn putrid
the trope of lives
flashing past your eyes
turns out, not real!
But rather, we’re outside ourselves
you’d think we’d be beside ourselves
we process next to nothing
irises narrowed; pixels swapping

brace for impact
sentimental, though we are
note the impasse
demarcated
as the arc

Wake, rise, wait, digitize, sleep, repeat [10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1]

….

here we stand
like an adam and an eve
anxiously awaiting
pearly gates or chest-high flames
but there’s no rubble to clear
can’t help but notice we’re still here
this room unchanged
our world remains
rotating
rather strange
Track Name: A Choice!
The earth did not stop spinning that day. The apocalypse was a dud. But what becomes of civilization? Do we revert or do we transcend? Do we revert or do we transcend?
It is up to you, the listener, to decide. If you’re feeling pessimistic, move advance to the next track entitled Firebrand. If you’re feeling optimistic, please move forward three tracks to the one entitled Fruit Bat. If you’re unsure about how best to proceed, please pause this album to reflect and consult with family members, friends, colleagues, financial advisors, local governing bodies, and/or messianic figures in your life. If you’ve been listening on shuffle mode, may the deity of your choice have mercy on your weary soul. When I say ‘please choose wisely’ you will have 10 seconds to make a decision before a decision is made for you. Please choose wisely.
Track Name: Firebrand
Godspeed.
Deliver us from listicles and NBC
Help me make sense without pretense
Tell me what to think
I need something to call it.

Heard the people shout
Found creative ways to isolate, and block ‘em all out
My echo chamber as close a comfort as it was before

Surrounded by the discharge
I tap around. Life’s not so hard
The outside struggle justifies
My want, my need to stay inside

Goddamn! Why
Can’t we just file it all away
Tired of seeing the ticker talking End of Days
I’ll tell you all about it

Pundits paid to shout,
Politicians and papers wring the mystery out
Alarmists stay in work regardless
If theyre worth their salt

Headlines shared on timelines squared,
Heap and tower to the umpteenth power
Afraid to peer, I sneak it still
Afraid of my peers, a lot I will

Shut out from the firing squad, the fight
I’m trying to keep it light
Might’ve missed the plot entirely
Something doesn’t feel right
Not sure we’ll ever have hindsight
We watched it all whiz by
Fold your hands, beg the sky for advice

God lingers
Can’t help wondering if we gave it the finger
If we hung it up mid-sentence or just let it ring
Come on forget about it

Stopped the shouting
Now it’s back and worse than ever
I’m beginning to doubt it’s
Meant to stop. Whatever. I’m so tired. would you let me idle?

Today I gassed my car up
First time In... a long long time
Stared right at the highway entry sign
Figured probably not much left out there to find

Don’t tell me the truth
While I’m sitting here existing
What folks around me call resisting, tell em that’s my
Business; to mind the party lines
The ‘we’re fucked’ and the ‘we’re fines’
Pick a side, pick suicide or something to rely on

Temporarily!
We misplaced our rationality!
But it pulled back in the docks
When the hands on the clock
stopped ticking to nothing
And Fate had been bluffing
A perfect excuse to revert to our cues
Of course that’s how it
That must be how it
That’s how our story ends

THE END
Track Name: 30 Seconds of Silence!
<<nothing but the hum of your own cogs a-turnin'>>
Track Name: Fruit Bat
If we won or if we’re losing
All depends on who you’re asking
Did this feed on the nonexistent
or omnipresent, ever resting

If you figured interactions,
human beings, relationships
Algorithmic. Symbols and numbers.
Repeating to the infinite.

I bet this caught you
Slightly bewildered
Shifted, splintered my perception of it
Sleeping giant
Knowledge arcana
All that we used to say I can’t recall

Put out our torches
Lay down our billy clubs
Let our keyboards gather dust
Cherish silence and introspection
Fairly new for every single one of us

It's interesting, what we were missing
It can't be pinned yet, that'll be history
Lost all ability to read the scenery
Took fixation and the staring down a reservoir we

typically reserve for those less fortunate
where ego turns to ash and heroes rise from it
For us to see, stow it away
For us to notice the ballet of day turning to

Night. S’pose there had to be something
Smashed through our heads
To remind it how it lies
Soil, water, bone and flesh spun through the sky

Tear the drywall from this room
Expose the rotted beams beneath
Turns out the whole thing was near collapsing
Just couldn’t feel it via 5 inch touchscreen

Say, is that literal fire and brimstone?
Sensing collective blueballed bloodlust
Ditched my status and I ditched my friends list
Social sabbatical to gain back self-trust

one day we'll look back
say "god, were we that fickle?"
the hive went vapid
got itself in a pickle, made the
bad seem better, the good seem miraculous
Paused inhibition, turned worriers spontaneous

Inspired graciousness and kindness
violent panic in the street
may take a lifetime to repair for some,
And for the rest, a couple weeks
The intoxication of our doom
The finest lesson and the greatest trick ever been pulled

and I, for one, now am certain that some things
Don’t make sense; aren’t worth pulling apart
Exist to put you back into the places where you are
So when you’re out on a Saturday night, you can find a moment’s quiet
To fade to black, before the crowd pulls you on back
As we fade to black now, ever pushing back

I pack into the seat of my car
With a new openness of the heart
Blow on the cartridge,
Refresh and recharge
Or the madness’ll blow you apart

THE END

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