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Worldsick Hop (C​-​Side Tapes)

by Scalpy Gonzales

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1.
Erogenous Zones me and my friends fingers and bones finding the obvious we won't even talk about it till way down the road in a room when we're hiding away from some stupid party
2.
Candysweet 03:05
Tie my jacket around my waist kiss my boss on the lips i don't need to explain myself kick my boss down the steps Suck away at a candysweet between the wind and the flesh when they're spooked they all sing like birds and I couldn't care less When I go out with the boys i like to dress up a bit i get the talk of the town in me the 9-5 in my hips i got a bone to pick i can't believe this is it it is just is what it is it is just is what it is
3.
Now I excuse myself from everything that don't knock me out what don't drink my soul when it kiss my mouth gotta fly like the talk of the town I hug my knees and sway swing scissors singing I've snipped myself away I have become indistinct shit on form shit in your sink sink don't knock me out gut says we gotta fly like the talk of the town Hey yall in my veins Ima let you out next sunny day bedroom's in my brain its everywhere I go its even where I ain't
4.
Shot a crooked bird pigeon kickin teenage punkass brained with a whip-butt fuck the World Anxiety Worm worldsick every night gonna kill these goddamn worms for the final time hit em with a pillow size pill in their goddamn eyes goddamn anxiety eyes Wormy knows just how I like to unwind Sicksick every night Sicksick every night
5.
Jizo-Cry 02:35
6.
I'm a chemist. Son of an Alchemist. Grandson or something who gives a shit And I'm the expert of this hole inside of me and how to fill it feed it, more like keep it breathing breath increasing hot air balloon slowly reaching taking a breath of fresh air take the youngen fishing Ain't this something, Bill? We're really laughing now. Ha ha! Veer left matey we're never coming down!
7.
8.
River's Edge 01:44
And then you just wake up and keep on going, man right where you left off and all these artificial separations between day and night night and day yes and no did it and didn't do it... they just burn away, man they dry off and flicker away
9.
10.
A subway stalled while they picked up skull and dropped the bits with a clink in a bag of bottles inside the faces stayed like marble A robo bird like voice chirped words that passed at all ears and buzzed right for the turds and I missed my stop when a pop gave the heard a startle A broken sink bathed in its own drink clear as invisible ink and I wiped my hands on my pants like a martyr Oh Jeez I could make quite a scene if I pleased and the nurses would handle me sweetly maniacal gleam streamers of saline sailing behind me Oh man Now your boy's got a brick in his hand playing pretend wearing all black i like to be bad between the kid and the rad is the gap that i'm giggling from
11.
All of these ghosts in a constellation suspended above that little town i ran away from I ran away yo-yo'ing whistling myself into a little knot I'm Beethoven I need to find myself and I can't find a goddamn thing unless i get this hate flowing from the outside world the real wide world of city slicks and leather hands i got my leather strangling my little self cuz i couldn't grip the space between me and he and his hopes and dreams where the sizzling possibilities make a theater that i can see but he doesn't get that right or privacy and the whole thing makes a body sour I'm a nature show, man Omniscient non-intervention when it comes to looking back and meddling i'll let that bunny get ripped apart every time or else i gotta look away and never return to that side of the state let it fester and rot inside my brain maybe try to isolate it with rigid walls and timed sprinklers so it can't sneak in and sleep at night on the park benches of my present life cuz can't you see, baby? i'm trying to make something of myself baby these ghosts are wasted on me stay on your part of the bed these ghosts are wasted on me
12.
Look, no hands Here's a mink that skins herself if you just tighten the bolt a little Or better yet give the kid downstairs a Ritalin and he'll do it Put it right where the quarters go and pennies went And look he nibbles on his own tiny wooden hands Gnaws, really Man he's really going at it good Just can't get em short enough nifty little poem he's writing about what other than himself a real John Henry this one, huh? (we do encourage free expression) And that machine regurgitates and eats that coin indefinitely its a neat one that's why we keep it here in back where some imagine people go to do their scheming So sayeth a sarcastic bite at windchill from a sneering rider so high above the thumbsucks and other cannibals they're just neurotic screaming past our perfect lab some whining, some in silence unbending on denying that they've all been one performance piece "The Orally Examined Life" displayed at every coordinate and recently a contest, too: who can best renounce the project hide the stage lights, leave them open... Also it's a nature show in which something flows up to a barricade and bumps its head lines are drawn, and little subjects frustrate into existence coagulate, until they have enough cells to tear at some of them make themselves a character in every one of their poems and pose the poems for nature photos
13.
Hollywood still breaks my heart and she can use my heartache whenever she wants put it in your shades when you feel like a star or something Hollywood plays herself and she plays with me in your mind when you're feeling swell Hollywood plays herself and i'll play with me till the dogs come home with long shadows Hollywood plays herself and she plays you up to be the man of my dreams and I'll play along Hollywood treat yourself like I treat me i treat me i treat myself play along with the girl of your dreams, yeah treat yourself life could be a dream, sh-boom life could be a dream

about

This album was all done on a 4 track to cut the production neurosis out of the picture. The influences were not sounds I'd been digging but processes I'd been admiring like the way free jazz dances around the conventional spine of pop music to create something more fragile and exciting around it (sucking the yolk out of an egg and filling the shell with confetti); the way old rockabilly and doowop 45s are equal parts song, performance, and recording, and you know that if the day was one degree hotter or the drummer's socks one size smaller the whole thing woulda sounded different; the way Boredoms feels like any given three minutes of their life coulda been recorded and it would sound like one of their songs...

credits

released September 2, 2017

Track 9 originally by Elton Motello
Track 12 a country song by I don't know who, but I like the Harry Johnson version

Bonejevis on tracks 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 9, 10
Angel Cunt on tracks 2, 12
Jake Firmin on track 7
Sean on tracks 9, 10
Daniel Shubat on track 12

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