1. |
Lockdown Town
01:17
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Remember when I introduced myself ten times to your scene-spawn, your hangers on?
Polite and slighted, I waited for my moment, knowing that yours was gone
I guess times change, but I will stay the same in that I know the truth about you now
Remember when I caught you and your boyfriend laughing behind your pointed hands?
Back when you thought you had this town on lockdown -- looks like the joke’s on you
I guess times change, but I will stay the same in that I know the truth about you now
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2. |
Saturn of Clarksburg
02:33
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Saturn of Clarksburg
Devoured her children
Outside the Fayetteville Mall
Did the endless motorik
Interminable muzak
Driver her dull appetite up the wall?
And the clerks saw naught out of place
Except the blood on her face
And the pile of bones by the Spaceport Arcade
Housecoat clean as a slick Rick Perry smugshot
Neighbors agog as they turn to A-3
And they see
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3. |
The Great Negation
01:38
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A sullen refugee from some great negation
Survivor of that which iced his wild elation
Bespoke, it broke him down to cogs and splinters
But he shook off the cough and scoff 'til winter's end
Strode through the spring unfrightened
Over oceans and borders to a bright-minded kindness
Lightened up to get enlightened
Shrugged off the late weight of his county's own blindness
Sprayed sheets of anger sweet in friendly stations
He sweated bright map-dots in foreign nations
And sung it sweet like high-lonesome drunk Replacements
Spurred on by glowing coils and the smell of basement joy
Touched tarmac a wiser person
Untried by those trials our boy is now that much more complete
Grim clouds of doubt dispersing
Inspired by the spires and the chords and the concrete
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4. |
T.M.S./N.E.S.
00:08
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Too many slammers
Not enough slammers
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5. |
Human Landmine
01:10
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I wish I was a landmine in the ground
Yeah, I wish I was a landmine in the ground
A landmine in the ground will fuck you up, pound for pound
I wish I was a landmine in the ground
I wish I was a battleship on the sea
Yeah, I wish I was a battleship on the sea
A battleship on the sea could sail away to thee
And blast your bones into the rocks and sand
There lies the crux of the problem, my friend
Unable to trade in my human form
Steel’s thicker than skin, and this blood will never keep me warm
I wish I was a bomber in the air
Yeah, I wish I was a bomber in the air
A bomber in the air could fly from here to there
I wish I was a bomber in the air
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6. |
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From out of left field
The right answer will hit you
I wouldn’t shit you
Blood here there should be none
Prominent ribs under white fur
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7. |
Clarity Cloud
01:12
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8. |
Month of Mondays
02:07
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The lie of living on leisure time
Won’t interrupt internal rhyme
A monolith of a mother-heartbeat
An endless loop of pain and defeat
The cost of casting a less linear line
Might mean a life without dead time
Results are in: the powers to not favor
The dignity of our divine labor
Month of Mondays
Sweetly sleep the week away
Awake each Friday at five
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9. |
Acceptable Faces
01:05
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Exceptional fates for acceptable faces
Age is a number, cool is a binary
Acceptable rates for exceptional races
Wealth is a ghetto, no less than poverty
Sorry, the same rules apply
It’s all cut-and-dry
No matter who your father knows
Bother what your mother owns
You better pay up for a job well-done
Or you’ll reap what you’ve sown
Don’t care what your connections are
Vague notions of how you’ll go far
With your bland-o band
Eight-by-ten
Press kit in hand
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10. |
Kendrick's Ghost
02:25
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Kendrick’s ghost will then and now
Resonate within my brow
Which furrows at the chaos and futility
Silver tongues on override
Drumbeats from a suicide
Rehearse it to the best of your ability
Dreamers die in real life
And those of us left behind
To sing our rhyme
Will abandon it in no time
So rally ‘round the blowout kit
Quick reward, convenient hit
No means to reconcile the songs we’ve broken
Painless in nostalgia’s coil
Slumbering verses in the foil
With words left hardly sung and never spoken
Survived by
Your broken sticks and practice tape
Make me an architect of sound
To spread my mortar all around
And though the structure is unsound
We’ll live in skyscrapers of ice
Paralyzed by our paradise
Dystopian and bored
Whatever makes you think you’re happy now, my friend?
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11. |
Stop Paying Attention
01:53
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Stop paying attention
To the tabloids and trials
The yellow-page trash
The dusty young dash
With functionless dials
That signify nothing
But a waste of our time
What a load of old shit
We’re better than it
Dollar for dime
Detox it paradoxically
Our best defense is to ignore its ceaseless plea
That rough old road gets smoother every ever-loving day
And I’ve every intention
To stop paying attention
Behind the monitor-white smile there lurks a smirk worth hiding
Blood-pulse in eager handshake
Beckoning
Reckoning
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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.
- 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
