some songs

by older men

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02:47
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credits

released May 6, 2015

brian - drums
chris - guitar / vocals
dase - guitar / vocals
morgan - bass

recorded and laboriously mixed by chris. Music by all of us. Words and explanations by dase, blame him.

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about

older men Melbourne, Australia

Brian, Chris, and Dase. Band photo by Brian O'Dwyer

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Track Name: hooray for everything
The well wishers have come crawling to crush our frail goodbyes. The buying public is still waiting for their stocks to realise. And they're contortionists, they conform to fit. When they bow down to it. The slave owners and the fucking pigs will speak to testify. Of good characters, giving witness, and bleeding your palms white. You've escaped the pull of merchandise but there's still subtle product lines and charity that begins and ends at home. Take a look around the bake sale line at all the familiar faces you find when substance gives way to the form.





Our studied, consumption based childishness isn't a rejection of shit. It's a celebration of the incredible privilege that allows us to act so immature well into your 30s. Grow up and take some responsibility for your place in this horrible world. Pick a side.
Track Name: community theatre
At the community theatre in the carpark screaming. The props department is working overtime. Building you that fine front porch and taking your bows. Just fuck already. But we don't want to see it so close the door. At the community theatre, and I wish I was dead. These people wanna see you ripped inside out. They can look it up on the goddamn internet or something I guess. At the community theatre. God bless them. They try.



People who make sure everyone is watching them be A Good Person (tm) is always entertaining.
Track Name: nationalism coils
God bless all the ships at sea. God bless the boys of the royal navy. God bess our fearless leaders in their untroubled sleep, free of hands that will never drag them down to the deep, god bless it all and lay it all on down for me. And little children and their perfect dreams. And the bloody hands we don't have to clean. And the songs that we'll never sing, when empire's assassins do their work for free. God bless it all and lay it all on down to me. Yeah lay it all on down for me. Clean up your sound, your act, your image.




Push back against mass culture that imposes its cynical dialect on us. Clean cut patriotism and the safe music that goes alongside it the hell out of punk.
Track Name: weatherman
They're crossing now to the weather. I'm coming live from the zoo. All the animals are dying and inside and on your tv screens I'm dying too. I know what the future holds. Isometric bars have all the answers if you know where to look. But you, you smug, cynical fuckers, this isn't a laughing matter. I'm crossing fingers, making lists and loading guns. I'm making my plans for a day I know will come. If I can't make you wake up I can make you afraid of me. I'll show you all what fear is live on shitty breakfast tv. In my time as a weatherman son I've seen some shit. But what's coming next is like the ultimate fucking punch line. They're crossing now to the weather. Coming live from your children's future, and street by street, block by block, everything is fucked. Well we can start with you.



I'm scared its already too late.
Track Name: nerd immunity
I hope it makes you feel like shit when you see that cabbage patch kid. If you're only picking out the bad apples, it makes it easier when they aim for the whites of the palms. Keep calm and settle down and have a cup of tea. The genuine anger of the dispossessed will only ever terrify you and me. I need more room to breathe. Increase the immunity. You can pork barrel shirtless oligarchs and puppets. And season your personality with condiments. I still hope it makes you feel like shit when you have to listen to those back patched kids. We need more room to breathe. All your best intentions don't exist outside of a time and place. What's more important? What you're saying? Or is it the impression you create? You can drink up, shut up and keep shouting.



Cupcake fascism: in the bin.
Track Name: your performance review
The board of directors has gathered around the conference table. To round out some numbers they got some people off the street. The things you never knew about yourself are all here in your performance review. And now your worst fears are all going to come true. The files will be sealed, except to the shareholders, the stockholders and the people off the street.



It's a serious bummer to hear locker room talk about 'chicks' coming out of the same band dudes who get on a facebook page or a microphone and then speak out against sexism.