1. |
Shitwalker
01:59
|
|||
|
Take your sickly sweet-talk along with all your props
Had to split this town full of shit-talkers and cops
Did everything you could to keep from being found
Did everything you could to keep me underground
Suck your host make the most of the ghosts of all your friends
And now you're haunted and wanted 'cause it didn't justify the ends
Did everything you could to keep from being found
Did everything you could to keep me underground
Now you're waxing sentimental
"Babe it's a holiday"
So why not everyday
Your excuse that you've gone mental
Is unacceptable
You're fucking horrible
|
||||
2. |
Dear Joan Letter
02:48
|
|||
|
Stunned and stilted
Sex was damned
Move on
To leave it unexamined
Still you tell me
That we're in the cards
Clear the streets
Of every town you sold me to
Arched and docile
Body true
Show your hand
And split the scene
Dear Joan
Incidental accidents
Spur on your tired regimen
More faces than a few have known me
You know you know you know
Dear Joan
And it's not my problem anymore
How you're afraid of everything
And it's time for you
To go back home
Dear Joan
|
||||
3. |
All The Sad Parts
03:06
|
|||
|
I like you, I like you
But I'm not in love with your record collection
I miss you, God knows I do
Especially when you're standing right next to me
Sorry I couldn't stick around
And watch him fuck with your head
Had to talk myself out of giving this much smaller man
A right and a left
I knew I'd be better off screaming my guts out next door
With Jeremiah and Jeff
I'm sad for you, so sad for you
I can only assume that our big plans are finite
It's bad for me, so bad for me
I can only assume that you won't be staying here tonight
I'll carry this torch so long
That it won't burn my hands
Still I'll cover my eyes during all the sad parts
And make no demands
Because I don't wanna be it, I don't wanna see it
From wherever I stand
I like the Who
And Hüsker Dü
But I'm not in love with your record collection
I miss you
God knows I do
Especially when you're standing right next to me
I'll carry this torch so long
That it won't burn my hands
Still I'll cover my eyes during all the sad parts
And make no demands
Because I don't wanna be it, I don't wanna see it
From wherever I stand
|
||||
4. |
||||
|
The digital clock outside
First National on High Street blinks
It's time she went to bed
Yes, the one she made herself
The one that I'd die in
Before I'd lie in with her
Well I declare, this pity party doll
She does the crawl
Six months away form a pure heart
I'd like to sleep alone tonight
This is the best I'll write all February
And you can condemn my selfish jive
Whatever's been left alive's
Not meant for sharing
Six months on she'll try
To hit me where
I used to live
Her fist will connect
With the wrong parts
She wore a different face
For every occasion
Down at the negative end
Of every equation
It's such a fucked situation
Can't you see the relation?
|
||||
5. |
Reclamation Shuffle
01:19
|
|||
|
Got a job in a hotel
That sits across an old landfill
Cleaning rooms for minimum wage
I'd do it anyway
So I might as well get paid
Former location of an old stripmine
From '78 or 1979
Back before there were laws against it
Like I learned in a class I took about it called
"West Virginia History"
Taught by one Mister Tomkowski
Back when I was in the 8th grade
I hope they're nice to me
On my first day
Alright
|
||||
6. |
Heartgrenade
02:09
|
|||
|
Allergy season
All summer sick
These days spend drunk
On a poor girl's pollen
Apologies if I sound thick
I just want to know
Where this entitlement comes form
Call a timeout
On a working weekend
A circle of chairs
On someone else's lawn
You've never paused long enough
To know anyone's pain
So don't try to tell me which side I'm on
There ain't no conversation overdue
I've been long over you
Ain't sure exactly whom
I'm supposed to fear
Your warnings were never clear
There are no winners here
Your secrets
Are too volatile for keeping
I'd show you all up
But I'm short on time
I never stood in line
To meet your approval
So don't waste my time
Asking for mine
Cut from your social shield
Left to assume
It's all in what I consume
White powder dusts
Your heart's a handgrenade
Die well in the bed you've made
This whole scene's been played
|
||||
7. |
Wristrocket Jack
01:48
|
|||
|
(extemporaneous)
|
||||
8. |
Rotary Champs
02:06
|
|||
|
Hey rotary champs
Don't be afraid to use your amps
A flaw is but a virtue
|
||||
9. |
Haunted Dub
02:04
|
|||
|
n/a
|
||||
10. |
The Salt Depot
02:35
|
|||
|
It takes a big man to admit that he's jealous when the tempo's too fast to be taken that serious and I could tell that you left by the look in his red face before he said a thing I held I all down yes I held I all didn't you know that I'm the one couldn't you guess that the image degrades with every copy you make now my brand-new job is turning me into the devil I sacrifice time always spent without you twist it up to an C down to a B B for 'bothersome' twist it up to an A down to a J for me and ' jealousy.'
|
||||
11. |
Julie Ought To
02:30
|
|||
|
Found a tape labeled "July Ought-Two"
When you were doing what you oughtn't to
I guess you had to move on
You had to make your escape and be gone
But it's alright
You haven't called me in a while
Quite the same it'd be too soon for me
Then again I got new real eyes on
So I can't say I miss it that much
And I'll fight on
You taught me more about you
You taught me more about you
Get out get out get out get out of here
You told me much more than I wanted to know
You told me much more than I wanted to know
Get out get out get out get out of here
Head to head in global power struggle
I turned more than I thought I had to
Worry worked in a gaze, a glower
Cheek to cheek dancing three years smarter now
And I'll fight on
Better heads under anchors hold me
Can only rely on myself to be pitied
Better heads under anchors hold me
Can only rely on you to be shitty
|
||||
12. |
Priapus Rex
01:56
|
|||
|
(Unknown/unremembered -- but with faintly recalled references to William Blake and Dionysian phallus-headed gods)
|
||||
13. |
||||
|
You're my lover, you're my son, you're the motherfucking leading man
And I'm stuck 'neath your gaze in a film-forced fascination
You're you-re a-selling, you're a-buying I'm the currency
The voiceless subject of your scopophilia
But you better watch your back, there's a million more of me
Burt Reynolds, Chuck Norris, George Peppard, Steve McQueen au-go-go
But if you dare act on it that phallus is gonna lose its mojo
You'll be flaccid red like my bleeding wound
Gonna crawl back home to your mother's fuckin' womb
Better watch you back, boy
'Cause the goods are getting it together
|
||||
14. |
Can't Say No
02:31
|
|||
|
When I was young
I swore it never end
It all seemed
Much more important then
Give me time
To be what I want again
The fault's not mine
Can't seem to choose the right friends
They're not mine
In the day
I struggle to keep me sane
In the night
My tears will fade on your grin
Give me time
To be what I want again
These fault's not mine
Can't seem to choose the right friends
They're not mine
Here we go
It's tragedy
Can't say no
Can't say no
Left behind
The best part of me
Left behind
Left behind
It's tragedy
Nowhere fast
In my only lonely town
When I'm up
Know I can go only down
Give me time
The fault's not mine
Can't seem to choose the right friends
They're not mine
Here we go
It's tragedy
Can't say no
Can't say no
Left behind
The best part of me
Left behind
Left behind
It's tragedy
It's tragedy
|
||||
15. |
The Sour Fruit Is Sweet
02:06
|
|||
|
Payphone buzzes desperately
Like a fly caught between the screens
Scratching legs and breaking wings
Against what she can't see
Eight eyes scan the sand-trap
Like a diver in the deep
As she weightlessly will creep
Around what we don't know
And she will be miles from here
More far than near
When I find something better on my own
Shot below the grain-belt
Like a watcher in the wheat
Always vigilant but meek
Against the weight of it
Lucky to discover
That the sour fruit is sweet
And the sorrow and the heat
Will fade eventually
And she will be miles from here
More far than near
When I find something better on my own
|
||||
16. |
||||
|
Now that you've been exposed
I can strip this house
Of your bad language
That seeped into our clothes
Like the taste of Cheat Lake water
In your throat
Now that everybody knows
I can walk with the sweet sun on my back
And be honest in my tones
Because I've dropped the pose now
That you've been exposed
You can say I've got no evidence
But I trust my friends
To look out for my interests
You can maintain your innocence
I've got no tolerance
For your false defenses
Now that you've been exposed
I can hold a brand-new Salem witch trial
And burn you at the post
'Cause I don't live in doubt now
That you've been exposed
And I won't live in doubt
Now that you've been exposed
|
||||
17. |
Pomade Years
02:26
|
|||
|
Your hype
Is larger than life
delusional tripe
force-fed by the forces
That bring
your weakness to light
so afraid that you might
meet the you that you once were
Before the collapse was pure and total
somewhere between the first chord and the last call
and I'll sit back and watch you choke on your smoke
You're such a fucking joke -- flat broke since the pomade years
No doubt, it's getting played out
so steeped in your clout
you forget who your friends are
and you rest on the laurels that you don't have
and dismiss all the bliss that we once shared
You take the path of least resistance
and wonder why I keep my distance
when your whole life's a mess of mirrors and smoke
you're such a fucking joke -- flat broke since the pomade years
Teeth grow long
No dodgy song
Step behind
And pay no mind
To what the world expects from you this time
|
||||
18. |
The Common Come-On
01:14
|
|||
|
The driest daytime drama lives
In silly personality seams
Introducing each date
The singles are going straight (to hell)
Unhealthy innuendo throughout
The common come-on is strange
Where the whimsical sect
Entitles English miles
I can see for miles and miles
Below the drop
You’ll wind up in
Another town
And burn the heart of everyone
Who dares to stick around
Australopatheticus breaks weak
Scorches torch-song in touches
Fluttery guitars hide fast
The weakling’s lost weekend
|
||||
19. |
Goldie's Medals
04:39
|
|||
|
I woke up wearing Goldie's medals
To seize and savor them
To watch intently
As she let so many others waste her
So anxious for mine
If I sold this to Hollywood
It would end Hollywood
It would end Hollywood
End with every award
Your legendary heart deserves
Not wishing fully
That she'd come around
Deceive and savor
Declaring that
She will drown or be drowned
In such sickness harbored|If I sold this to Hollywood
It would end Hollywood
It would end Hollywood
End with every award
Your legendary heart deserves
My hope's sustaining
And it's shining
And it's wonderful
|
||||
20. |
My Mythology
01:24
|
|||
|
And I was sharp enough to notice
Thought I was wise enough to work it out
This is no psychology
This is everywhere
This is my mythology
First I was weak enough to wither
Then I grew strong enough to work it out
This is no psychology
This is everywhere
This is my mythology
And all I've known...
|
||||
J. Marinelli Morgantown, West Virginia
J. Marinelli is a one man band like no other. The sound and fury that emotes from his haunting Appalachian echoed yowl falls
somewhere between Guided By Voices, a lost mountain troubadour and a classic 70’s punk outfit from your dreams.
- Subversive
... more
J. Marinelli recommends:
Lille Lort på ferie
by Lille Lort
Real talk: this is the only concept album that's ever mattered. If avant-garde/shit-fi bossanova is a thing, then Mr. T plays it.
go to album
Brain Time Now
by Blast and the Detergents
A hot mess of fearless noise-rock a-la MISSION OF BURMA and SONIC YOUTH. Florida's best import since ever.
go to album
Lo-fi pop perfection from straight outta Grøa, Norway!
go to albumIf you like J. Marinelli, you may also like:
The new album from Italian psych-rock outfit Bee Bee Sea has heavy punk and power pop notes.
go to album
The punk legends return with their first studio album in 35 years, featuring reworked fan favorites as well as all-new material.
go to album
Another perfect release from contemporary emo powerhouse Run for Cover records.
go to album
