1. |
Larry, Sleepover Friend
03:20
|
|||
|
Larry I keep seeing you around.
Shouldn’t we have a sleepover?
Every day until our loves are found,
You and me should have a sleepover.
Throw your science homework to the ground.
Here’s your invitation to come over.
Even if your favorite color’s brown,
You better drop a line when you’re in town.
So come on Larry, push me around.
I will give you the chance to feel stupid
So I can feel smart.
It is the only thing we have left to do with our relationship.
Bring your T.I.-83 calculator, blue and purple
Sour Patch Kids, and Now ‘n Laters.
Haters will hate cause they won’t be invited to the playdate.
Haters will hate cause they won’t be invited.
Haters will hate cause they wudn’t invited to the playdate.
Haters will hate cause they wudn’t invited.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
Larry I keep seeing you around.
Shouldn’t we have a sleepover?
Every day until our loves are found,
You and me should have a sleepover.
Throw your science homework to the ground.
I’ll write you a nonsense love-letter.
It will read:
“I’m not waxin’ hifalutin,
But Larry, you stink of pollutants
While I’m-Eric and Sea Monster conjure nuisance
And Magillacutty’s juicing.”
So we’ll die loving the poop out of sleep we eat,
And so fulfill every single mortal need--and we’ll play guitar!
While the powerful put their heads to rest…
And the wretched put their heads to rest…
Barack Obama puts his head to rest.
We wonder what’s the only we have left to do with our relationship?
Larry make a smile from my frown.
Larry be my Yellow Ledbetter.
Cause Larry I keep seeing you around.
You and me should have a sleepover.
Throw your science homework to the ground.
Here’s your invitation to come over.
Even if you’re favorite color’s brown… so’s mine
|
||||
2. |
||||
|
Note to self: like a ska song…
Note to self: like a ska song…
Note to self: like a ska song…
if you want to win Rebecca’s heart.
You seen her walkin’ on down the street.
She’s the kind of girl that you’d like to meet.
She’s rather fancy from head to toe, bringin’ sexy back, but in plaid.
If you play that bullshit music,
you’re gonna see her pass by your punk-ass.
But if you’re offbeat is lazy, your mind a little crazy,
she might call you baby.
So make a note to self: like a ska song…
Note to self: like a ska song…
Note to self: like a ska song…
if you want to win Rebecca’s heart.
You seen her walkin’ on down the street,
and you tried your best but you made a mess.
You were kinda creepy with your hand in your pockets and a mustache.
You played your bullshit music,
and now you’re nursin’ that Jack ‘n coke.
Come on! Sight-read your Mahler! Straighten up your collar!
There might be some hope.
Come on! Make a note to self: choose a ska song.
Note to self: learn a ska song.
Note to self: like a ska song if you want to win Rebecca’s heart…
If you want to win Rebecca’s heart…
and you want to win Rebecca’s heart!
|
||||
3. |
||||
|
You fucked up your relationship cause you believed in God.
My friend Jonathan’s a marvelous fellow. Why’d you turn yellow?
You know you two made the handsomest couple. Why’d you turn yellow?
Mommy’s from Samoa where they had no Yehoah.
Tell me where they go, Christina, tell me where they go-a?
She expects a postcard so I really must know-a.
They’ll be no public transportation but a vessel movin’ slow-a.
You know, I beg to differ.
Mom and I will paddle down the River Styx in our own two-person canoe.
And if I didn’t know any better, Ms., I bet we’d paddle right on by you.
You’re screamin’ on deaf ears, the blood around you stinkin’ of the righteous and the wicked alike.
Now mixed in with your tears, you’re belchin’ in vain like poor old Sysiphus on an exercise-bike.
An exercise bike! Yeah, and we’ll be like
She fucked up her relationship cause she believed in God.
My friend Jonathan’s a marvelous fellow. Why’d you turn yellow?
You know you two made the handsomest couple.
Coulda had babies; they’d be bi-racial.
Now, poor Jonathan he weareth a wretched scowl.
All the citizens of Paradise they hear him howl.
He’s bitten of his tongue and so he can only produce vowels.
Your savior upon your love cried foul.
Again, I beg to differ.
Roundabout the time he said never leave you--What do you know?!—he’s M.I.A.
Jonathan Greene’s a thousand times better. You pulled the thread. You undid his sweater.
Jonathan made of flesh and blood and a broken heart because his lady she ain’t happy with that.
Now he’s shit out of luck, cause the servant of love was rather fickle as a matter of fact.
And what’s up with that? Why would you do that?
Every single one of us will feel like Abraham someday, answering the whims of the sky.
Blasphemy. Infanticide. Pick your sin. Nowhere to hide. Commence the deed the time is drawing nigh.
But me on my 612th birthday, I’ll know full-well that I am gay and don a rainbow-colored yarmulke.
And the Lord will shower me with love, silver droplets from above, a testament that he is also so gay.
Yes, God is gay. I think he’ll say,
“Don’t fuck up your relationship cause you believe in God.”
|
||||
4. |
Drake’s Pictorial Aid
00:42
|
|||
|
Hi. My name is Drake. I’m here to talk to you about Bill. His middle name is “Alfred.” One of Bill’s chief interests is rebuking the taxonomy of life as put forth by Carl Linnaeus. When I saw him last, he took me to his favorite swamp. So, upon the conclusion of this recording, find a stranger. Accompany the stranger to your own favorite swamp.
|
||||
5. |
||||
6. |
||||
|
Hello. I am a bird chilling with David in the park.
|
||||
7. |
||||
|
Patrick Ewing's household—
Amazing to behold!
Drawbridge and a moat,
it's a fucking castle.
Johnny knocked the door down:
made Patrick Ewing frown;
fought his favorite clown;
vomited on his wife's gown.
What?! Hello no!
Number 33's not down with that.
Plus 1, number 34,
Chuck Oakley the oak tree
gotcha back,
[ch-ch-POW!]
Johnny Kung-Loa'd with the uppercut
but then the fight was up
Johnny did the cool thang
responded like Liu Kang
with the song that he sang
he started up the
Party at Patrick Ewing's house.
He went and threw a
Party at Patrick Ewing's house.
Johnny started up the
Party at Patrick Ewing's house.
He went and threw a
Party at Patrick Ewing's house.
Are you going to the
Party at Patrick Ewing's house?
I'll see you at the
Party at Patrick Ewing's house.
Better see you at the
Party at Patrick Ewing's house.
You're going to the
Party at Patrick Ewing's house.
Broken glass everywhere. Herb Williams didn’t care. He and I took up the broom and pan and we went and tidied up for the noble man.
Marv Albert off in the bathroom with some Grindr boy and Dick Cheney and Pat Riley…
and lo!—the Lady… of to bed safely…
|
||||
8. |
||||
|
January 28th, I will stay home and rest,
and moisten the corners of my favorite Reader’s Digest.
Yes, Reader’s Digest.
Me and that old rockin’ chair,
We’ll nurse ourselves a precious litter of
Horridly deformed rockstar dreams.
Will we sup them well?
No, we’ll snuff them out,
While we sup ourselves
On their darling shouts.
On the 28th,
I’ll turn 28, and
Wiggle my little body free from the fickle
Fingers of fate.
|
||||
9. |
||||
|
“All of you are nincompoops.
All of you are ne’er-do-wells.
All of you have stinky butts.
All of you are imbeciles.
All of you have drinker parents.
All of you have violent sons.
All of you have barren daughters.
Yes, even the pretty ones.
All of you are nincompoops.”
“Think I’ve said O.K. too much.
Think I’ve said O.K. too much.
Think I’ve said O.K. too much…”
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Okie! Okie dokie! Okie dokie!
Okie! Okie dokie! Okie dokie!
[o-i! o-i doe-i, o-i doe-i!]
Okie! Okie dokie! Okie dokie!
[o-i! o-i doe-i, o-i doe-i!]
Okie! Okie dokie dokie!
[o-i! o-i doe-i, o-i doe-i!]
Some of us are royalty.
Some of us are evil twins.
Some of us are undecided,
No matter the state we’re in.
All of us are none of you.
You and yours are herbivores.
We’re slobberin’ for a taste of you,
You dainty little nincompoops.
All of you are nincompoops,
Dirty rotten nincompoops.”
|
||||
10. |
||||
|
A girl should know it in her heart that her fella abides her always.
Never chiding, always providing, she should delight in things that are commensurate to her:
nature and ability;
station and aptitude;
and her transcendent graceliness.
Ever-abiding in charms and pleasantries…always consoling, always condoning…never untidy, never untimely… never vituperating, never obfuscating… never berating nor defecating… and all these are a matter of easy regimen,
even earthly instinct.
Just make him feel like a teddy bear, getting cuddled all the time, because the Father’s word is the only word.
|
||||
Ecce Shnak New York, New York
Ecce Shnak (pronounced Eh-kay sh-knock) is a 7-piece art-rock band. We're based in NYC. We're one part pop music, another part classical music, and a third part punk music. Our songs are about love, sex, death, change, bravery, and food.
If you like Ecce Shnak, you may also like:
Max Goldstein makes "acoustic" music that is a unique mix of guitar, experimental electronics, and percussion. Make indie rock weird again.
go to album
Pugnacious post-punk has unexpected melodies, bright guitars and bouncy rhythms. Jam out.
go to album
Where the Heart Is
by Sweet Pill
A confident blend of emo, pop, and hardcore from the rising Philadelphia band, featuring introspective lyrics and churning melodies.
go to album
Rising Philadelphia band balance oversized pop punk hooks with vivid, intimate lyrics, presenting a raw, honest vision of guitar music.
go to album
Beloved punkers PUP close out the year with six scorchers that have riffs, attitude, and hooks, hooks, hooks.
go to album
Red Hot & Holy
by Sarah & the Safe Word
This Atlanta group have a unique take on Americana, bridging queer cabaret culture of the 1920s and '30s with punchy contemporary rock.
go to album
Drunk Dial #12 - Gentleman Jesse
by Gentleman Jesse
Buoyant one-off release from a long-running Atlanta band who juggle garage rock, folk, and power pop; don't miss the Mark Morrison cover.
go to album
