1. |
Shoveling Dirt
02:47
|
|||
|
20 shovels of dirt and stone and the list goes on
20 shovels of dirt and stone and you're underground
20 shovels of dirt and stone and its still unknown
20 shovels of dirt and stone and you're halfway home
There's revolution in the biosphere
The inmates have disappeared
The officers have left their beds
The aquifers are dry and dead
The hardwood trees are all cut down
The birds and bees have gone to ground
The senators just turn away
As we prepare, as we prepare for the
Parasite
Welcome to the geodome
The innocents have all gone home
The acolytes just shake their fists
The undertaker’s sorely missed
The butterflies go up and down
The gravity
The dueling seconds for despair
As we prepare, as we prepare for the
Parasite
Stop!
|
||||
2. |
Buttons and Ribbons
03:21
|
|||
|
My life is traced by buttons and ribbons
My life is traced by cables and trays
So many lights, and applications
So many platforms and so many days.
----
Scissors cut my cables.
Needles pierce my skin.
Scars and patches build up,
Shows the shape
I’m in.
Scissors cut my cables.
Needles pierce my skin.
Scars and patches build up,
Shows the shape
I’m in.
----
My life is lived with bladders and livers (in the pain)
My life is lived with scalpels and rays (we get paid)
So many cuts, and operations (in the scars)
So many sutures and so many saves. (we are made)
----
Scissors cut my cables.
Needles pierce my skin.
Scars and patches build up,
Shows the shape
I’m in.
Scissors cut my cables.
Needles pierce my skin.
Scars and patches build up,
Shows the shape
I’m in.
Scissors cut my cables.
Needles pierce my skin.
Scars and patches build up,
Shows the shape
I’m in.
----
My life is hung with curtains and scissors (in the act)
My life is hung with backdrops and praise (we create)
So many lines and dramatis persona (in the play)
So many characters and so many plays. (we evade)
My life is traced by buttons and ribbons (in the act)
My life is traced by cables and trays (we create)
So many lights, and applications (in the play)
So many platforms and so many days.
|
||||
3. |
Paranoid Style
02:34
|
|||
|
Paranoid style
Arena of angry minds
Getting twisted
Into conspiracies
Don't laugh at
Their absurdity
Persecution
Is their pornography
It’s on the printout.
It’s at the readout.
Why don't you read it and weep?
I can’t see clearly in the dark, so
There’s no illusions to me.
Why don't you get out?
You’re on the way out.
Why can’t you see you should leave?
We can’t see clearly in the dark, now
Why don’t you leave this to me?
I’m on a stakeout.
Outside the hideout.
Open the windows and see.
And I hear your meetings in the dark, so
There’s no illusions to me!
It’s on the printout.
It’s at the readout.
Why don't you read it and weep?
And I can’t see clearly in the dark!
You’re all a fade out
After the take out
That’s no condition to be
Cause we can’t see clearly in the dark
Now, there’s no illusions to me
Why don't you get out?
You’re on the way out.
Why can’t you see you should leave?
Cause we can’t see clearly in the night.
Go slowly.
Don’t hurt their unity.
Easy to say.
Some don’t have that luxury.
So we suffer,
For you complicity
Too late!
Their boots on top of me!
|
||||
4. |
Latency
04:47
|
|||
|
You touch the screen and the glow surrounds you.
The light of friends and slight acquaintances.
Board Members and bored members.
Fictive kin with kinship ties.
The color of bonds
The hum of relations.
You start to talk, but it’s never right
The live person is too much like the screen
The screen is too much like the real thing.
-----
And now it's too little too late.
We're always a bit too slow.
You move fast, we hesitate.
Why are we the last to know?
You act now, and we just wait.
Is this all for show?
And now we can't escape.
We are the ones who we fear!
-----
Cats!
Cats in the background!
Cats in the drapes!
Cats by the keyboard, listening.
A scream down the block is up close
The garbage truck reverses into a pole.
Speak up!
Pipe down!
You’re too quiet.
Too loud.
You don’t understand.
Latency!
Latency!
-----
And now it's too little too late.
We're always a bit too slow.
You move fast, we hesitate.
Why are we the last to know?
You act now, and we just wait.
Is this all for show?
And now we can't escape.
We are the ones who we fear!
|
||||
Weird Babies Washington, D.C.
Steeped in DC, Weird Babies “writes twitchy, paranoid punk” that tries to grapple with these fucked up times. Bass and vox: Josh Freed, guitar and vox: Alex Dent, drums and yelps: Avi Zevin.
If you like Weird Babies, you may also like:
Os Segredos Do Espaço e Tempo
by Futuro
Sao Paulo's Futuro return with another high-energy, perfectly rough-around-the-edges punk EP that effortlessly balances melody and speed.
go to album
Rays’ post-punk explorations of existential dread hang together effortlessly.
go to album
The punk legends return with their first studio album in 35 years, featuring reworked fan favorites as well as all-new material.
go to album
A Split 7" Between Friends
by Dr Sure's Unusual Practice / Bench Press
A four-track bout between two of Australia's most formidable post-punk groups, fueled by wiry guitar riffs and vibrant, timely lyrics.
go to album
Jagged post-punk from Sydney captures the sound of the ’70s in its acute angled guitars and detacted vocals.
go to album
R.M.F.C., the brainchild of 18-year-old musician Buz Clatworthy, lands a punk-rock one-two punch.
go to album
The new album from Italian psych-rock outfit Bee Bee Sea has heavy punk and power pop notes.
go to album
