Awry, Amiss, Amok

Expand Your Musical Taste With Richard D. Bartlett

Hi there, my name's Richard D. Bartlett and I have some music that you just have to hear. You mightn't like it, but you simply must listen to it - preferably up very bloody loud. I'll upload selected tracks that will be available for a limited time; it's a bit illegal, so I urge you to go out and buy anything that takes your fancy.

This week in the first instalment of EYMTWRDB I'm going to start right out on the fringe, with a screamo band you've probably never heard of - The Blood Borthers. Do you like The Mint Chicks? They effing love the Blood Brothers. I can absolutely guarantee there is barely a parent alive that will appreciate the sheer noise of this band (what better recommendation could I possibly give?)

"Screamo" means there is some screaming, so it is legit hardcore, but the 'emo' suffix suggests the lyrics are poetic, self-obsessed, and awesome. Once you come to terms with the banshee wail, the face-burning riffs, and the gut-punching double-kicks, you begin to appreciate delicacies like the lush Hammond on this particular track, or the startling lyrical imagery throughout.

Camouflage, Camouflage

"Alice, where's your tongue?"
she said, "look in the encyclopedia's ceaseless chatter."
"Alice, where's your hair?"
she said, "look in the sharp of a well-worn butterfly knife."
"Alice, where's your teeth?"
she said, "look at the piano. they're dangling from every single chord."
"Alice, where's your lips?"
"look in the empires roaring; the tyrants getting so loud and boring."
"Alice, where's your man?"
"look in this black eye written like the o in the word goodbye."
"Alice, where's your house?"
"it's built on the hush of your favorite record's screeching halt."
"Alice, where's your clothes?"
"they'll be sweet sheets around your eyes when street boars eat you alive!."
"Alice, where's your swans?"
"flying in hotel rooms stealing stereos."
mister the sky's a contortionist.
the streets are skipping records blaring hiss.
camouflage, camouflage.
the city's draped in camouflage.
the taxis are jaguars throwing fits.
subways are subterranean bullets.
camouflage, camouflage.
the city's draped in camouflage.
can't you see the sidewalks are just snakes peeling off last year's skin?
can't you find your own face shining in the sky's false reflection?
where's your voice?
where's your dress?
where's your bones?
draped in camouflage.
where's your beach?
where's your sky?
where's your clouds?
draped in camouflage.
and she says give me one good reason not to empty the heart of all it's zeros and ones,
not to smash that telecaster before it births a thousand useless slums.
love bit you in the throat while you were staring at the sea.
all the girls in Montreal are smashing skateboards in the street.
it's 4am and she's at your door with a suitcase, in a nightgown.
we slip through mansions with fences full-grown.
we slip through streetlights in crooked rows.
i saw the sky split in two: one half jealous and one half cruel.
i felt my chest cave in under a pile of synthetic grins.
the fields are day-glo under sobbing rainbows dragged through filthy thoughts,
false applause and camouflage.
i couldn't see the solar system,
it was camouflaged as a tape loop repeating.
i couldn't see the glorious meadow,
it was camouflaged as a smashed in glass window.
i couldn't see the love and affection,
it was camouflaged as a jungle of erections.
i couldn't see the skeletal lightning,
it was camouflaged as a young machete.

21 comments:

Richard D. Bartlett said...

I forgot to mention, they know how to party:

fire! fire! fire!

orange yellow and black flesh trees bloom fire fire fire
i'm gonna set this motel 6 on fire fire fire
those young fists clenched devour
make a million millionaires
set fire to the ships on fire!
set fire to the hips on fire!

the salacious throne of lightbulb wire wire wire
i'm kicking snowmen like it's going out of style style style
those cold hooked cemetery claws
raking out the infants' jaws
set fire to the homes on fire!
set fire to the dress on fire!
set fire to the stage on fire!
set fire to the skulls on fire!

now i'm tied to a seagull's back yeah fire fire fire
and all those black-haired bayonets trying to lure me down with the sounds of their choir choir choir
well i'd rather shoot up a syringe filled with fire fire fire
and get them back with songs so vacant loud and tired tired tired

what's the sound of a hijacked train
what's the sound of why can't we be friends
spirits cover him in empty tanks
for all we hear of them they have no face

set fire to the drums on fire!
set fire to the lives on fire!
set fire to the house on fire!
set fire to the face on fire!

Jett Superior said...

The Magnetic Fields' Long-Forgotten Fairytale is cute and poppy, so I should hate it, but it is somehow juicy and excellent, so I DON'T!:

Someone told me you’d be here
Whispering these familiar things
Talking to my little pet, smoking the same old cigarettes
…I would have laughed

I saw you last in summertime
You said you hated long goodby-y-yes
You said, “There’s nothing to explain, in every life a little rain”
…etcetera

And a long-forgotten fairytale is in your eyes again
And I’m caught inside a dream world where the colors are too intense
…and nothing is making sense

There’s a floating town of eiderdown in a mist of mystery
There’s an old enchanted castle and the princess there is me
…decked-out like a Christmas tree

I guess you’ve had your little joke
But I have lost my sense of hu-u-mor
My medication’s wearing off, for it’s just not strong enough
…to cover this.

Then you kissed me like before
I found myself wanting more
And you tell that little lie that kept me hypnotized
…another kiss

And a long-forgotten fairytale is in your eyes again
And I’m caught inside a dream world where the colors are too intense
…and nothing is making sense

There’s a floating town of eiderdown in a mist of mystery
There’s an old enchanted castle and the princess there is me
…decked-out like a Christmas tree


If somebody told me I’d succumb
If someone said I’d be so dumb
After all the sleepless nights, when I turned on all the lights
…I would have hit them

But I have turned the other cheek
My voice trembles, my knees are weak

And you beat me once again
And I know what happens then
…you raise the ante


And a long-forgotten fairytale is in your eyes again
And I’m caught inside a dream world where the colors are too intense
…and nothing is making sense

There’s a floating town of eiderdown in a mist of mystery
There’s an old enchanted castle and the princess there is me
…decked-out like a Christmas tree



You! Are welcome!

alex said...

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Bel said...

I was gonna be all 'how about you Expand Your Blog RDB and post us some new content YOU SLACKER' but... as it turns out... there's quite a bit here to read after all.


Huh.

alex said...

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alex said...

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alex said...

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alex said...

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alex said...

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alex said...

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alex said...

.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ...

alex said...

.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ...

Daniel B. McClelland said...

Not entirely sure of the relevance there Alex...

Jett Superior said...

OH-EMM-EFF-GEE, post something, chud!

alex said...

http://prieslar.info/?search=sienna+Miler
http://prieslar.info/?search=dzwonki+true+tone
http://prieslar.info/?search=XLR
http://prieslar.info/?search=Nadnapiecie
http://prieslar.info/?search=hugo
http://prieslar.info/?search=Lorneta

Daniel B. McClelland said...

I claim no responsibility for the above. I think it's a dude who's being dumb.

Anyways... Rich... where's your latest blog post? Seriously. At least something about your new gat.

richdawg said...

Sweet blog name Chud (I know the cool kids don't call you chud anymore). Hayray indeed. I remember coining the exclamation at a Manfest in times past. What heady times they were.
I am going to download said band quicksmart. Send me your address and I'll post out a mix of the screamo that I scream to (richpsteenhof@gmail.com)

Anonymous said...

you got a skull fucking coming your way, unless you post soon.

Daniel B. McClelland said...

Seriously. The last post was in a prior tax year. PRE-MARCH 31TH.

Jett Superior said...

YOU *DO* KNOW IT'S BEEN FOUR MONTHS, CORRECT?

Correckkkt?

Richard D. Bartlett said...

Take a hint fuckers