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Appliance

by Old Pal

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1.
Don't have to worry anymore. I forgot what I was looking for. There was something that you said, and besides that I forget. It's just better on my mind. Don't have to pick up after me. My stuff's downstairs in the recycling. I heard a voice through the wall saying it was "a long time to not be well."
2.
I hold the hand that holds on to my own and leads me through the sand of the neighborhood that I call home. Whispers in my ear, "the things you want are plain and clear but you'll never get anywhere unless you realize what's already here." Though sleeping makes me feel sick and I mix my mind with medicine, talking tends to twist my tongue but I speak to you with both of my lungs. If I were a lake, you'd be rest upon the shore beneath a sky that steeps with color like a candy store and if I were a place to stay you'd be a rooftop with a view and if I were a chord you'd be the melody that carries the tune. You don't have to understand the words. You just have to recognize the voice. You don't have to understand the world. Ah, ah. ahh.
3.
Mint Hill 02:14
Go rest your headache on your pillow amongst your keepsakes and sleep as your house shakes. Under sheets, you drift like a snowflake. Up on Mint Hill, we don't compromise with the buzzing of machines or the gold and silver mines. Outside, cranes are lifting. In the sky, they move so swiftly. Below, the tallest buildings there's a tree that could use a rope swing.
4.
Too many days walking around in these shoes. Too many times missing your barbeque. So many nights avoiding the telephone. So many bills for leaving the bedroom light on when there's nobody home. Every dream that I have, gone by the time the sun fills my room. And I sleep with a ghost by my bedside.You take to the streets and I'll take to the avenues. Out where the fog is thick enough to hold on to. Out where the ocean is part of the neighborhood. I've found a home for my houseplants to grow and the tap water's good.
5.
Breath in the air of make believe. Begin with words that disappear. Red skies on the edge of land settle down skeletons at hand. Diggin' fossils where we stand. Blood flows slowly through our veins. Nothin' more than what it seems looking out the windows of the rent controlled apartment in the sky. Building castles made of dust out of what has come to rest. Secondhand clocks pass minutes slow. Waiting ain't something you do good my friend, it's something you do well. Sleeping on a different time, where we met like sand and sea, where the sunlight suits us well.
6.
I don't mind sunny days so long as I can find me some shade and I'm perfectly content with the fog as my blanket. And oh! The rain, come to wash me away. And the snow, that I barely know, but I can't stand the wind, getting in under my skin. Blowing me back down again. And I don't mind getting up before dawn. I just don't want to hear the alarm and I'm perfectly fine going to bed past my bedtime but oh! The moon, come to brighten my room when the lights in the house have been turned out. I don't mind what the weatherman say, so long as I have bills to pay. Rent's due on the 5th of the month and my paycheck just don't seem to add up to much. I can't stand the wind.
7.
The television's on all night long. Lucid dream, rapidly. Tell me a lie that I can rely on. Talkin' me to sleep with all your insecurity. I woke up alone. I turned the radio on. I heard a voice say, "the grass is greener on the lawn." Hung out like a clothesline, strung in between the place where I came from and the dream where I belong.
8.
I went on the ride. I felt sick inside. It turned me upside down. I passed out on the ground. I ate a funnel cake, with a lemonade. I saw the girl I loved. She gave me a hug. We went up to the haunted house. They let us ride for free. I got my picture took, with a vintage western look. I knocked down all the jars. Stuffed animals in the car. Corn dog on a stick. 'Weird' Al Yankovic. The bumper boats are my thing, in a pool of gasoline. My money had been spent. Before I paid the rent, I went to the fair. Pollution in the air. Threw a dart at a balloon, on a Thursday afternoon.

about

This project came about in the fall of 2013 when Ilya Arbartman approached me about laying down some tracks at his place. I took the BART over to Albany where he picked me up and took me to the shack behind his house. There we spent various weekday mornings experimenting with guitar pedals, adding drums to the songs and, maybe to a somewhat frivolous degree, a LOT of distortion to the vocals. I wanted to put it out on tape. Maybe I still will one day.

Until then, it's available for free right here on the internet. It's not meant to be taken seriously or anything. I just wanted to see what would happen if we turned it up to ten. Regardless of how it turned out, I don't think I've ever had such a carefree, positive, and fun time recording. I HAVE to give it up to my boy Ilya for volunteering his efforts, both on the drums and as engineer, as well as his time. Also, I have to give it up to Charlie Boy for the inspiration. And thanks to Dave Schmidt, for setting the bar so high, and in such a wierd place.

So here it is, in all it's lo-fi 1/2" reel to reel glory, by way of that old lazy digital stream.

yer old pal,
Shawn "Boof" Wyman

PS the album art is all jacked up but I don't have photoshop to fix it. The photo was taken by my friend's mom, Christine Hollender, back in the early 80's. It's of their pantry. I found it in a cheap frame hanging in the very same pantry decades later. I love that photo.

credits

released March 21, 2014

Shawn Wyman - Vocals, guitars, bass
Ilya Arbartman - Drums

Recorded & Mastered by Ilya Arbartman in the fall of 2013. 8 tracks. 1/2" tape. Natasha Arens plays Trumpet on "Diggin' Fossils" though I've never met her.

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Old Pal San Francisco, California

Nostalgic for a past that never was, Old Pal is the musical project of Shawn Wyman & friends.

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