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J Marinelli​/​Elsinores Split

by J. Marinelli

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Ricky Loud two's a crowd when we're stuck in the same room so I'll duck out walk about and leave you to fuss and fume fresh set of friends to contend with your third-degree quarter life crisis embrace your own hubris Ricky Loud talk so proud about the things that you've not done fact enough time to face up to the truth you can't outrun no rising tide will uplift the sinking ship you refuse to abandon is this the future you planned on oh no
One pioneer here powder horn of inspiration scalped but scraping by lost chord a far frontier no tomahawk thrown of indifference would ever reach him there raccoon skin cap sweat filled brow tail hangs down as he skips town one pioneer here
He celebrated the inauguration 2005 January 20 no parade no neither pomp nor pride instead he interviewed successfully for a data entry job and he's happy for the chance to be their slob oh his living was made like a mobster paid like a cop on the take of evil his thinking is so medieval all the way home from the interview the snow fell in blinding droves he looked from his dirty windshield to a figure clad in robes cut in ghetto fashion after the statue of liberty with a cardboard around her neck decrying this land of the free oh her linen was as gray as the French stone quarried in some Romantic era under no threat of terror no millennial error as if nothing could scare her except for world war three etc.
Post Up 01:10
Oh thunderfoot manimal Cleveland don't care Bill Fox left the party emergency emergency emergency Kevin manimal thunderfoot Bridgeport piltdown man Clarksburg giant post up.
Back where I don't come from the scene ain't been much fun in a deep freeze around these fuckin' middle aged babies replete with infantile fashions oral fixations and poor life choices sick strata of a slick niche market wide glass ceiling revealing nothing oh graph paper tiger you're not an outsider nor a delicate genius but a trite coattail rider unchallenged by all means unassuming by none your opinion is a pastiche of points of reference repeated defeated revealing nothing
Chiroplast at a last-aid station pull the latest discs out of rotation backbone for loan sign as I was quitting the office "Overt Vertebrates Need Not Apply" you got a short sharp ocular sound tank ride it all the way to the psychic bloodbank trade one happy ending a full gam for a half wank genre genre don't get any on you genre genre don't get any on you mouth full of molars but to drill is beyond you and while I never cried out for your fluoride flattered but flaccid I remain your humble (non-) servant
Butt-hurt frat priest he's in a crisis to say the least each day's a beast when you've outgrown the freshman feast and I know he'll carry this grudge so long down past the old Greek row hedges and with his popped collar and senator's daughter he'll plea to his pledges and then as if by rota up from his throat will come last night's whiskey dredges butt-hurt frat pest oh his best friends have flown the nest each day's a test 28's too old for this and I say he'll carry that hurt so long down past the end of semester and in his pressed khakis he'll feel something's lacking but won't tell what went wrong then he'll try to hide all that sharp stinging pride in rufees and beer pong oh such a helpless victim here in your straight while maleness you can't do anything at all the world keeps bringing you down the world keeps bringing you down you can't do anything at all despite you born of privilege despite you born of privilege you can't do anything at all
The lie of living on leisure time won't interrupt internal rhyme a monolith of a mother heartbeat and endless loop of pain and defeat month of Mondays sweetly sleep the week away awake each Friday at five the cost of casting a less linear line is well worth a life without dead time results are in the powers do not favor the dignity of our divine labor month of Mondays sweetly sleep the week away awake each Friday at five
Millennial creeper shrug off this geezer's gaze hands-on brains-off pipelined to a third-rate rage and a lack of principles old boys' school last train to cool's gone away I didn't get into this to pledge a fraternity it's indefensible and if we had a tussle it'd be all but muscle memory


17-song split cassette with the Elsinores, released on Karmic Swamp/Space Cadet, Summer 2012. Hear the Elsinores' half of the tape at theelsinores.bandcamp.com.


released June 22, 2012

Recorded via 4-track cassette with minimal overdubs in Lexington, KY 2011-2012. Mastered at Zone 8 Studios in Granville, WV May 2012.

Currently out of print.


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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.
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