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We Own These Monkey Bars

by Strictly Off the Record

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1.
Set em on fire just to cool em down, start it out fast and then slow it down. Marketing strategies make that sweet sound and a little attention to detail. Some kid tries to start out their first LP with a tad bit of grit and some honesty. They’ve mapped out the layers, consulted affiliates Well I guess you can call me an artist Look I know you’ve all got things to do but we’ve got some things to say so we’ll make this short. Tell me, please, who owns these monkey bars? No one, we’re just cells in jars. Then pick up the beat on the second verse, swing it/add color to make it heard. Through blood on the tracks and the grooves in cd’s, rub it in with your shitty lyrics. Now is the time when we’re ready for the catch, some hook that will beg for more. We’ll shout it out louds at the top of our lungs so the neighbors will hear us and all sing along. Tell me, please, who owns these monkey bars? No one, we’re just dust from stars If that’s all that we are then we’ve got to be heard because it’s all a class war. We need a cultural burn. But we’re all just swingin’ from trees like the Bonobos. Oh darlin’, we just aren’t that evolved.
2.
In end times even death may die so you better take shelter from a blood-bound archaic tribe. And if you really want a heart breaker, if we haven’t freed you yet we we will secure production of your social engineers, we tried words first now we’ll try human monopoly. And the cycle continues again and again and again, bloody savages. Y’all wanna make some money? (blood money) And so the cycle continues again, and again and again and again and again. Do you wanna make more money? (blood money) All in, fall in line and bring your gun. Up here where instincts take control we lead you brave men into war. But if you really a want show stopper you should see how they do it big. Through banks and slush fund puppy mills and the federal reserve, we’re all pawns now. And the cycle continues again and again and again, it’s like clockwork. Y’all want to make some money? (blood money) And the cycle continues again, and again and again no it never ends. You wanna make more money? (blood money) Eat ‘em all up. I will hang on every word, I will hang on every word, but don’t you cry a single tear. Until I am back from battle I’ll write you poems in the mail. No don’t you cry a single tear, until I am back from battle I’ll send you poems in the mail until I’ve been replaced.
3.
An Awkward Architect (free) 03:39
I close my eyes and fantasize what it’s like to feel inside of that safe you call a pumping beating heart. Through all the nerves and the veins, if I’m asleep or awake, sometimes I wish I never heard you speak a word of it to me. But then I wouldn’t own quite half the soul that I have today… but it’s like I do now. Theres not a thing I wouldn’t do, just to own a piece of you, that temple standing strong and holding firm. There’s not a thing I wouldn’t do, just to be inside of you. I’ll remodel every door and window pane if you want me to to compliment your curves and subtle ways. I’ll change it all all for you. But now you’re gone, and I’m an architect without a home. But now you’re gone, strike up a redemption song! Right now! Well that’s just the cut I’ve gotta take for the home i should’ve built for you, for me. The nights that we spent in my bed should’ve served as a clue, or a cue somehow. We were whiskey intellectuals, introverted sexual beings with the bookworm blues. There’s just an animal, an artist that’s fighting and starving inside of me, a monster kept alive for you. Now when I sit and write it down I find it really seems helps me out. So heres the jist for us two egotists, I just press the chords and all if its reversed. I guess I’ll make it, one more day… at least one more song.
4.
All you solar powered women you shakes my bones, you really know how to turn a mammal’s heart to stone. When the sun comes up all the clothes come off, it’s a photosynthetic work of art. In the same ol’ bed that his girl just made he tried to steal a little sunshine from this foreign dame. Now you’ve crossed the line, you thought you’d getaway, she oughtta to throw your cheating bodies in the eastern bay. All these solar powered women well they break my heart, they really ought to give an artist a running start. But If I don’t suffer my music will and so I delve myself deeper and go in for the kill. Look if it weren’t for you to pull me out of my blues, like when the winter swallows autumn girl im waiting for you. With your hip-bones swayin’ and that sundress on, running through my head like a repetitive song. I am electric, I am electric wires strung out all over your bed. All these solar powered women are they driving you crazy? 1 more the money, 2 for the show, 3 getting drunk, and 4 who want blow. 1 more the money, 2 for the show, 3 getting drunk, and 4 got to go. You’ve got your color back, you’ve got your color back.
5.
Factory Girl 03:14
Factory girls seeking factory boys, with a frame so slender she’s bound to make some noise. Up there on the screen, in every fashion magazine, there isn’t any nudity but those photos feel obscene. But me? I was born in a bottle of whiskey and im still trying to wrap my brain around that pageant queen. Oh me? I was born for the music scene, I was, and it’ll only be another year or two before you never hear from me. “Heroine sheik, cocaine twice a week. Whatever the producer says, I’ve only got about half a week to fit into this dress, to show off my new gown.” You could be size zero and you’d still be feeling down. Yeah me? I was born for a bottle of whiskey and im still trying to wrap myself around your tatooed physique. Oh me? I was born for the music scene, I was. It’ll only be another year or two before I fucking leave this scene. Look I cant really blame ya with a body like id wanna show it off- I’d wanna show you off too.
6.
Well I hear that we’re all chemicals, all vitamins and minerals. Mathmatically we’re created, statistically counted and mated. Forced into beings of consciousness, I wish I could go back on it, but the magnets in our hips won’t let it be. Well sometimes we all make the most of it, other times we probably ought to quit, but dont you ever wake up on fire. Sometimes we all make the most of it, life’s little lonely deficits, but don’t you ever wake up on fire or dead. Just evolve with me. Quantum mechanics aside, we’re all pushing to feel good inside. Perpetual beings brought to motion to function in within the commotion. But if every particle of matter is related and consequential then why don't we feel it inside? Why am I fighting to feel alive? Sometimes we all make the most of it, other times we probably ought to quit, but don't you ever wake up on fire. Sometimes we all make the most of it, life’s empty and horrible deficit, but don’t you ever wake up on fire or dead like them, or me. When awareness is too much to take, when your consciousness does dissipate, will it matter? Will it have mattered? When awareness is too much to take and your consciousness does dissipate, will you have mattered? Will you have touched them? Would you have touched anybody at all? But who am I kidding, I cant even change myself.
7.
Now I’m so dizzy I cant crawl, you rip the posters off my wall. This is the end of fishwives, cuckolds, all the pyramids will fall. We’ve built this farse and now it’s true, the lies we told we’ve grown into, the grip of panic sex and vodka breath we’re lushes in a lull, the adrenaline takes control. We’re both just dying to cut loose, the club and drugs have altered you. This is the end of all the fucked up dirty, uncouth things we do. Now like a snuff film on display I hide myself I’m so ashamed. I’ll cut the toxins, quit my body, all my calories for you. I’ve lost control of this dancing sickness. Take me away. I don’t know when but I know how. No, I don’t know when, but I know why, and I know how. I do.
8.
She reached over and turned on some NPR, said “sit still, be quiet, just stay where you are” and then crept to my side of the bed. “Boy, you stole my heart with “End the Fed”.” I could tell every word how it just hurt you so and how you hate it up there when you’re all alone. You’ve worn that heart thin on your arm but I think thats a bit of your charm, just how honest you are, at least for 30 minutes on stage. Would someone start spreading the news that I’m in love with you. I reply “I’m so tired of the things I say, do you know why it is that i act this way? I would beg but I’m not one to pray, I’m up to a full pack a day. We live every second vicariously, like some abstract science, metaphysically, I’m the most awkward horse in your pasture but I can be the alpha male that you’re after. Hear how loud i can roar, well, at least for 30 minutes on stage.
9.
John Wayne’s left hook, through a telegraphed culture shook coordinates to take our place, to stage a scene with cigarettes. And this playground that you call a man, a rough and heartless specimen. I claim if all the stars can coincide, if particles can still collide here, in way he’ll never die. But he won’t be around anymore. But i’m hoping all of that will change, just let your fresh pressed freak flag fly and then never look back again. I really mean it, never look back again. Clark Gable’s charm, came complete with a trophy arm. Leading ladies flock to meet decrees, the expensive taste of eye candy. And this playground that you call a man, a timid awkward Bukowski. Defying all the latest savoir-faire going for a man like me, in a way I’ll never die, but I wont be back again. But i’m hoping all of that will change, I’m hoping of all this will change…. but it won’t. Strong traditions make a body lose control again, to balance scales and sin.
10.
Well I know that it seems cowardice to just wan to runaway but I’ve been packing up my bags for a year and 13 days. I’ve been thinking about somewhere Europe, maybe in Berlin. We could run away to Paris, maybe Ireland. Why oh why? Why, oh why, do we stay here? tell me Why oh why? Why, oh why, do we belong here? But look, im talkin’ through a bottle. Livin’ in a studio just trying to save a buck but one day you and me my love we’ll be living it up. Lets hitch a ride and get away to the big streets of chicago, with your good looks and my guitar we’ll open up a disco and we’ll dance all night, dance all night, until the morning breaks. Dance all night, dance all night, until our legs give way and we’re all left alone. But everything you love is artificial and the tool of a lie, it happened in the fraction of a second when you briefly closed our eyes. Just tell me, Why oh why? Why, oh why do we stay here? Look, I’m talkin’ through a bottle for you. Why oh why? Why, oh why do we stay here? Look, I’m talking through bottles. Oh my, Ann I’ll try. If you be the wine I’ll be bottle. You be my stand up dame, I’ll be your fall down drunk.

about

We Own These Monkey Bars is a narrative of primitive idiosyncrasies and how they exist, evolve, and expand in modern culture. A peculiar commentary on the global structure of pop-culture, society, government, and war… a playground where the law is always survival of the fittest.

The album opens up with a wall of sound and enormous drums that continually drive the haunting melodies and chorus lines. Monkey Bars is marked with disco beats, blues chords, powerful off kilter vocals, and maybe just a hint of pop life. (at least enough to hook you) Orchestrated to a voodoo pulse, the violins break the dirty guitar sounds down and the lyrical melodies spill modest but cold and calculated honesty of observations on topics like altruism, philosophy, Darwin, drinking, drugs, love, money, sex, and more money. Let your fresh pressed freak flag fly.

credits

released February 19, 2012

Released: Feb 19, 2012
℗ 2012 Strictly Off the Record

SOTR is Christopher Reynolds, Caitlyn Kuhs, Nathan Jimmenez, Zach Saloh and Andy Grinstead

Recorded by Scot Gallop at Hardlight in Bloomington, IN
Mastered by Andy Gasparini at Friendly Ghost Media, Nashville, TN

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Strictly Off the Record Bloomington, Indiana

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