Hastily recorded on analog 4-track in my living room. I had to rush this to make the deadline for an online compilation dedicated to the spirit of DIY shows called Please Don't Hang Out In Front Of The House, which was put together by Aaron Scott of Attica! Attica! in response to a ridiculous Red Bull marketing ploy that enouraged bands to compete to play a "real house show."
The Game Boy elements are kind of barely audible in places, but like I said, this was super rushed. I swear it's in there!
We met clandestinely; subterraneously. We put our eggs in baskets not just anyone could see. We took a pass on power and a raincheck on respect. We were convinced that there was more to life than a paycheck. And so we lived on a thin gruel of ideas and hope. We were Cretaceous mammals hiding in burrows, and when the asteroid hit we would venture outside to take the world back as the dinosaurs all died. But that day never did quite come, and our transmissions broke up. We were behind enemy lines when our homeland Balkanized and our ship of state capsized. So now I'm drifting through this land, trying to speak a language I don't really understand. Isolated, separated, from my former compatriots - M.I.A. and presumed dead. Trying to pass as a native, but I'm not fooling anybody with the way I live. Reduced to recall better days, and just trying my best not to get in the way. It's way too risky for secret handshakes, but I thought I saw something in your eyes, so now I'm hoping some measure of my discontent has penetrated my disguise. Our numbers are few, but maybe I'll see you at the next meeting: gathered in basements, comparing anthems, scattered but waiting for a time when we won't have to hide.
released November 19, 2010