#lg61

01 1980 A pensive one-minute whinger. To whinge is to whine, in Irish/British slang. My Mum would probably kill me for adding that second latter nation, but it’s in the dictionary, so I figured I’d add it for accuracy. My Mum uses an absolute assload of Irish slang. She uses the word “footering,” which means to aimlessly fool around. “Farting around” would be the closest Canadian equivalent to footering around I think. It’s similar to “dilly dallying” which my Mum also says frequently. Anyway, the song is one minute and not bad, written while living at my friend _____’s place in April 2016, which was a bit of a drug den, lots of coke and tina and OxyContin. Not a healthy place to live, and I found myself looking back to my single digit years, for “more.” Seeking more in nostalgia is a desperate kind of looking back, but something I felt I needed at the time. Look to the 80s for more, I sing, and you’ll find it. 02 Battle Crying A b-side from the Big City Nights album Almost Awake, recorded September 2016 with Mike Kuehn, rhymes with “Jewin,” as he tells people. He also pees sitting down, like a girl, he once proudly boasted on his MySpace profile circa 2006, back when All Grow was his latest release, before the brilliance of his next EP, titled I’m Getting Pretty Good At Giving Up, or I.G.P.G.A.G.U. for short (is it shorter though?) and artwork featuring him supine and staring at the sky on a desert island as an alligator or possible shark gnaws at his acoustic guitar. Done in black and white. But back to the song, which is a good one. Kind of a grunge march, if you will. 03 I Threw It All Away (Again) This is exactly what it sounds like, an alt take of the song that appears on our debut, longer and sung this time by David Contin, not Danny. A languid pace and chilled out vibes, like a sparser Toro Y Moi. Nah, who’m I kiddin’ hah? I can’t sound like that genius. It’s lo-fi bedroom pop, as ever.  04 Please Don’t Die An epic song that builds for four minutes to a phantom crescendo. Again, done with Mike Kuehn in Sept 2016 and earmarked for a BCN album but never finished. Until now. Written at the height of my opiate addiction, I was likely addressing myself in the title. 05 Credit Cards A nifty number that used to be much blander. I recently added some noodling and technical guitar work to get around the fact that I’ve used that same chord progression something like fifty times, on songs like “Not My Blues,” “Skeleton Man,” “Hecka Reckanize,” “Goin On,” and probably 46 more. Whatever. Dig it. Here’s the words:

Bleed it now it’s economy, credit cards, and the lottery. Beat it out of dichotomy, (I) said it hard and it bothered me. Meet the mouth (that) says I’d rather be alone. Heed the clout weak and watery like you babe.

Won’t be mine I shit on these times but I’m not bitter No I’m not bitter anymore. Don’t deny the little sweet signs But my transmitter thinks I’m a quitter and a whore But I feel alright.  Won’t we mind these ill bread crimes (and) somber heys babe?