Fail Videos

Your shine got shaking but your game was tight and everybody told you everything was gonna be all, be all, be alright. Your glow got graphic and your flex magnified and all the readings told it would be all, be all, be alright. // And you didn’t ask for this fight you were born into this baggage, you weren’t raised for regicide. And you were the baby jesus, now you're fingering the teeth  on the key to your apartment above these byzantine streets. // You got what everybody wants in your hand, two fresh un-thrown dice. Somewhere bliss is happening. Rolling in like entropy across the canyons of this great divide—hear my sound I’m super hyped. // With your eyes set to crush and your mind colonized, all the signs agreed that everything was gonna be all, be all, be alright. Your blaze was brilliant in your dreams of ice and everybody hip was trying just to be all, be all, be alright. // You were the utopian bride. You love the life the blood brings you but you hate skinning the hide. And you sang the words at midnight and danced in the red and forgot all the versions of yourself that were already dead. // Like an alien trying to blend, looking for a life not yet occupied. Somewhere bliss is happening. All of those ghosts back home gave me the skeleton keys but the kingdom lied—hear this sound I’m super hyped. // With your kiss like a candle and your shattered sky, every little piece was trying just to be all, be all, be alright. With your pose like an animal and your rebel in the night waking up beside you saying everything’s gonna be all, be all, be alright. // I’m riding this endless stream, looking for solid ground while there’s still time, somewhere bliss is happening. Spreading like ink through water. Sit back and watch it filter out my life— hear my sound I’m super hyped.

Crisis Actor

Death eaters at the all-night diner. Barack Obama still controlling the weather. Deep state, dark web, gravity is a hoax. To hate like this and be happy forever. Let’s play king of the mountain. Sticks and stones will crush my bones. The kids be liking their cages. They feed they lion and they lion come. // That’s not me, I’m not here. This is not happening. Everything that is going on isn’t what’s going on. Absolute everything, real is nothing.  The only answers that matter are mine. I’m the only one who gets to be magic. It feels good to hate like this. It feels so good to know that you are miserable tonight. This will go on and on forever. // Hello nightmare whatcha knowing? I’ve come to watch your darkness growing. I’m a stranger in this world. Absolute everything real is nothing. [The future is a dead museum.] // All the saints with their agendas. All the martyrs are just crisis actors.  You failed your fear interview. I’m gonna crush you. They feed they lion and they lion comes. Absolute everything real is nothing.

At Least I’m Not You

When did everything change again? I burn so much energy just trying to stay cool. I saw myself in a dream again, looking for any micro-dose of joy just to keep me getting through. With my mind strapped to the bones of a slowly dying machine, dragging my carcass through the white hot center, deep in surrender flying every color of retreat, clinging to a world that still makes sense to me. // I’ve ghosted good girls, I’ve made the moves of a fool. But at least I’m not you, at least I’m not you. // Your psychopathic ways are again on full display, and still you feel no shame. And you wonder why no one tells you the truth—at least I’m not you. // You’re doing your best Veruca Salt again. Leaving everyone to sweep up your mess again. It's everybody else’s fault again. You and you’re perfect friends, laughing and drinking and talking about white wine. People incapable of guilt usually do have a good time. // I broke the pure heart of the only woman who’s ever loved me true but at least I’m not you, at least I’m not you. // Your psychopathic ways are again on full display, and still you feel no shame. And you wonder why no one tells you the truth—at least I’m not you.

I Got Friction

Hey hey old skull face walking through the interzone, headphones blasting This American Life. Not cool in the least. No quantitative evidence of how I’m spending my light. Not part of your micro tribe, not one of your phenotypes, not making this epic transition, code switching, apoca-rebel diction. // Gimmie gimmie friction, I got to get my kicks slow—uh oh oh oh oh. Automatic, got me listless, now I’m lifting it all back home. I got friction. // Roaming the streets hunting for input, looking for an instant angry fix, through pixelated snow drifts, viewed by no one, total unmediated bliss. I got no defense, exponentially giving me the bends. It’s all got me so twitching, coming up for flavor, craving non-fiction. // Gimmie gimmie friction, I got to get my kicks slow—uh oh oh oh oh. Automatic, got me listless, now I’m lifting it all back home. I got friction. //Over and over this tortured ground tracking animals that I never see, version I’ll never be, situations in these jaws I can never flee. Trolling my enemies, walking with the Amazombies. It’s got me speed glitching, dumb stricken, forever fever pitching. // Gimmie gimmie friction, I got to get my kicks slow—uh oh oh oh oh. Automatic, got me listless, now I’m lifting it all back home. I got friction.

Once Upon a Time in the West

We came with such great expectations, long before our limitations revealed themselves to the night. We of freedom born falling, answering the viral calling, how many times do I have to learn this lessons twice? But isn’t this how the west was won? All of us arriving so mystical and dumb. // All the prophets and the therapists and the beautiful name on some cosmic list and the mornings you sang Jeff Buckley to me. The world got strange and exponential, we mapped the islands of our potential, and watched the sun drop into the sea. Now we sit safely on the shore. It hurts too much to hope that hard anymore. // Passing through the many battlefields, we of mountains born unreal, now citizens of these far-out cities. We gave up keeping the wolves from our door, we invited them in to share our floor. They would have picked the locks themselves eventually. By the time we figured out the game We had forgotten why we came. // 10 years in the wilderness, the hours crawl and the days compress, and no one’s thirsty for what I’ve come to know. Watching our friends raise their babies. I’m the darkest soul at the birthday parties. It’s all so very un-rock and roll. There’s nowhere left to run, but every now and then we still have a little fun.

I Had a Plan

Off this earth I’ll fly away. Oh, for a while, for a time outside of time. Then come back, and start all over again. Oh, maybe get shit right this time. Leave behind all that’s wrong. Lay spread-eagle on the lawn of the palaces. In the world where we belong.

Let It Die

Breathless messengers to the anchors they relate, “the king of maladies is finely at the gates.” But the wise men are cool, up in the spires with the doves. They’ve seen the bats fly backwards and the faucets dripping blood. I was gonna move through rarefied light, sing to a million ears in the epiphantic night. But that was just a dream I had, and I had to let it let it die. // Supernatural days, preter-normal dawns, the poets in my cell phone saying please transform. I was gonna be tough. I was gonna be Khan. It gets hard to trust yourself when all your loves are wrong. I believed in the trigger. I fought for our side. An idea so beautiful could never be denied. But that was just a dream I had, and I had to let it let it die. // My fates said no, my vessel was cursed, but my mind keeps flashing concepts like a newborn universe. Narrow bands of color, darken as they blend. I press play on the vulture and fly to my revenge. I would stop watching from the dark outside. I would thrive like a rumor, I would find my tribe. But that was just a dream I had, and I had to let it let it die.

Hopeful Monsters

[Land of 10,000 dances.] Do the “Kingdom of Awesome.” Do the “Prince is Alive.” Do the “Pony Named Panda.” Do the “Giddy up and Jive.” Do the “Orange Lord of Bat Shit.” Do the “Death Eater Snap.” Do the “Flexy Candido.” Do the “Tinder and Clap.” This is how I raised myself up from the dead in my spare time, and so can you. // Do the “Digital Shasta.” Do the “Shady AF.” Do the “Whisky and Yoda.” Do the “Bone Treble Clef.” Do the “Vince the Destroyer.” Do the “Hot Man on Trial.” Do the “Born Under Punches.” Do the “Bear Man and Child.” // Do the “Dragon with Asthma.”  Do the “Siri in Chains.” Do the “Purple Gymnastics.” Do the “Tanktop and Stains.” Do the “Horse-Headed Randy.” Do the “We All Fall Down.” Do the “Future of Farming.” Do the “Freak in Nerd Town.” This is how I raised myself up from the dead in my spare time, and so can you. // This is the era of the hopeful (hopeless) monsters.

This Modern Doom Is Such A Drag

And the Pixies kick in as the explosions begin and the hands strike midnight forever. With the crack of the name in the goth metal weather, the ying and the yang start blending together. And I just can't get any peace around here, with all the dead fishes and the drunk puppeteer, and the sky spitting a wicked cocktail of tears though the gray broadcast. // Apollo needs some serious stilts to get up in the morning over those eastern hills. And the robber baron is counting his tills as flag flaps over the landfill. And I want to shout to the whole clockworks so they all know you’re the sweetest thing on this life boat. And despite the static I love you the most. Let stick together until this storm has passed. This modern doom is such a drag. // With the vandals at the gates and the last heavy weights and the death star with bees in its belly. And the black cat from afar, walks into the bar, calling out for a shot of petroleum jelly. And this whole scene was beginning to seem like the end of 2001 Space Odyssey. Through the wounded light limped the king of comedy huffing ether from a rag. This modern doom is such a drag.

Mobius Strip

The problem, I’m part of the problem. // I can’t live with you I can’t live without. // Hey, ha ha, goodbye, nah nah, your empire is fragilistic. // I can’t live with you I can’t live without. // Hey, ha ha, goodbye, nah nah, your empire is fragilistic. // The problem, I’m part of the problem. // I can’t live with you I can’t live without. // Gonna come back. Gonna come back as the smell of dirty heat. // Hey, ha ha, goodbye, nah nah, your empire is fragilistic. // Every day I crush, every day I crush [the world’s most rare and delicate flower]. // Next, next we kill the stars. // Somewhere bliss. Somewhere bliss is happening.

Credits

Vox: James Nugent

Guitars: Eric Piippo, James Nugent

Keys: Ben Erickson

Synths: Ben Erickson, James Nugent

Drums & MPC Triggers: Mike Watt

Percussion: Mike Watt

Samples & Loops: James Nugent, Mike Watt

Bass: Pierre Ferguson, James Nugent

Fiddle: Pierre Ferguson

Omnichord: Eric Piippo

Spiritual/Metaphysical Guidance & Earth-Friendly Socks: Dustin Winegardner

Produced by Berkeley Pit

Songwriting by James Nugent

Mixed by Erik Blood

Recorded at the Big Building, Jim’s digital folk laboratories, and Pierre’s old Sumner studio.

Mastered by Adam Straney at BreakPoint Mastering

Album art by Mike Watt