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The War On Pleasure

by J. Marinelli

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1.
Psychic marks with lesser aim Traffic choking every vein In the shrunken headscape of today There's no weapon like anxiety Conscience strewn in disarray Another tongueless casualty In the war on pleasure A high half-lifer at the gate Said damage comes to those who wait And if you've got something good to share, You're welcome anywhere but here Lest we toss you in the fray While building up our military In the war on pleasure
2.
Sub-prime mover Synaptic skull Axiom sparkage Ark mercurial And all my systems are nervous When it leaves your body Where does the warmth go? Ninety ninety-eight Ninety-eight-point-what? When you shuck your shell It's less than irrelevant And all my systems are nervous When it leaves your body Where does the warmth go? D.Y.B.I. D.Y.B.I.E go!
3.
Lately she's been tried Eyes me with a tepid longing Yes deep down I'm too far gone To upheave what's placed upon me I guess I've no choice But to suspect All that I've been shown By surveying this here wreckage On my own Will I convalesce Until all the roads are clear of traffic Or am I free to ride On this big bus going nowhere fast I guess I've no choice But to suspect All that I've been shown By surveying this here wreckage On my own On my own Same old story Nothing ventured Nothing lost My own Years ago My wisdom Came at such a cost So sow me to those orchards greener Lock Haven To heal until my wanderlust Takes hold again And there I'll lick my wounds Until they bid me go Bid me go Bid me go Bid me go again Hey Lock Haven Your story is killing me
4.
It's been a vacant year Ain't shit to do but drink a dram from A Kentucky mason jar In a stood-up club with a lifeless laugh-track Built right in Don't have to think too hard Every joke you hear is familiar Hot off the ha-ha line Only so much they can justify with irony Fast out of fashion Don't this dead time weigh a ton It takes no mind You ain't no kind Of fun Twisting around the dial Head's a-bliss with this tinnitus Humming a static line Ain't no match for my spastic tonearm Gimme Death Sweats and not Decemberists Gimme Death Sweats and not Decemberists Gimme Death Sweats and not Decemberists Gimme Bad Brains and keep your Bright Eyes Fast out of fashion Don't this dead time weigh a ton It takes no mind You ain't no kind Of fun
5.
You ain't no You ain't no You ain't no You ain't no Picasso And I ain't no I ain't no I ain't no I ain't no Lester Bangs But out there on the Internet Everybody thinks that we're legit I try hard I try hard I try hard I try hard not to try hard And I've seen your I've seen your I've seen your name all over town Falling in with the out-crowd All us peg-legs say you play too loud

about

Released as a one-sided 10" through Stencil Trash Records (Dusseldorf, DE), May 2014. Currently out of print.

credits

released July 1, 2014

Recorded during the polar vortex of early 2014 via four-track cassette in Lexington, KY.

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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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