Two ships traversed a flooded forest after several nights in a motel made of scrap metal. They searched for the man the locals had been accusing of stealing the street lights at night. The man they searched for believed that this was innovation, a way to see the sky more clearly, a way to find a path to the sea: where these boats actually belonged: along the boardwalk, the carousels, the dart games, and prizes for whining children.
“Are” became “Can’t” before “Want” could even need “Not” and then the words of these two ship captains became discharge papers and daily glasses of whole milk, but the one who designed this plan had nothing to swallow with, so “Is” just “Wasn't”, and there was a reptile in this fella, under his leaves, and they were damper than a dog. The fruit he offered was fictional and the captain with the zebra leg fell for it. The other captain binged on his nails, as in: not the living parts of him: the things he could garnish his meals with.
But the forest was still flooded and no one was doing anything about the sounds under the water. Everyone was just listening to jokes about their ancestors and pseudo-sop-sack-jazz that was JUST ABOUT in-time, JUST ALMOST THERE. These folks were waiting for Christmas presents, but they knew they would only get unpopulated cities tailor-made for them.
Then, a new man appeared made of thin, leaking fossils and gongs, and the lights returned, so long as the gong rang. The festival could now begin downtown. The vultures finally ascended from the flood. They returned to the desert, to their shoe-shines. The earth finally accepted the water in the absence of the vultures; the forest regained its true body. The two captains grew the salt back in their lungs and the seashells on their palms; they faded back to the sea as an archer with no name watched them go, knowing the plan he had for them had failed. He became mute. A reptile was in this man as well, laughing at his lack of communicative oxygen.
The forest became repopulated by butchers and banjo players with no calluses on their fingertips. They all owned defective cars and whistled at Dolly as she tore up trees by the roots to make holes for her to piss in. The smell drew the boat captains back to the forest, but they could not enter it now. They decided to create a sound loud enough to get rid of the forest entirely, to convince the butchers that radios and oils-rigs DID exist, and to be GONE FOR GOOD, and to learn the alphabet that their FAMILIES didn’t invent. It was just between their ears, but JUST ALMOST.
However, this still didn't explain the flood in the first place. Why would the earth reject rain? The captains looked for reasons by the shore and they found whistles and string disguised as splinters. They found a man made of spiders in a house made of sunken ships. They asked him where the chants were coming from and he told them: “the cage of fruit behind the house”. The captains went behind the house and this time they both fell for it.
Then, there was breeze and a cold serenity. A figure took them by the hands and led them to a barren prairie, all except for one house. They turned to ask the figure where they were but he was gone. They turned back to the house and it was gone as well. The wind began to sound like scissors and they felt the owner of the house breathing on every part of them until a screech, a low twang, and a helmet of discord woke them up like a sermon about vines and barbed-wire. They were under the forest briefly and were cleansed momentarily, but when they returned to the surface the reality of the cleansing, the acceptance of the rain, and the absence of the vultures hit them: the earth had taken all the water and the boats were now obsolete;
they were now unemployed captains.
released October 31, 2014
Joe Satkowski: lead vox, backup vox, lyrics, megaphone
Sylvia Haynes: acoustic guitar, electric guitar, piano, upright bass, percussion, backup vox, lead vox, lyrics, toy piano, glockenspiel, clarinet, singing saw, tenor banjo, melodica, ocarina
Charlie Renzo: drums (track 20), percussion (track 4, 6,14,15) backup vox (tracks 1, 4, 19, 25) Lyrics (track 1 & 4)
Ryan Freid: lead guitar (track 15), harmonica (track 14)
recorded and mixed by Sylvia Haynes, except where noted
tracks 15, 20, and 30 mixed by Mitch Lieber
(all bonus tracks are not considered a part of the album as a whole and will not be included in any physical releases of the album)
all rights reserved