Gaia Ramsdell - violin, vocals

production and artwork by Roscoe

Sunset

dedicated to Grandpa Ubs

Anjali Madhok - vocals, piano
Blake Creasey - guitar
Gaia Ramsdell - violin
Roscoe - piano

lyrics by Anjali Madhok
production and artwork by Roscoe

bottle up joys of today and tomorrow
keep it by your side
‘till the day we must divide
and it will permeate the sorrow

or just believe in what we have here
if you knew you were like me
and we’re both seeking the sea
then you could wipe away that fear

never let it cut you too deep
keep a shield around your chest
only you know what is best
and in this dream we’ll never sleep

wastelands of snow are haunting me
my feet are falling through
and the grass is turning blue
only darkness can we see

picture your world in a land of disaster
and only what comes out is good
keep your broken thoughts in a box of alabaster
you’re not the only one misunderstood

echo in my ears in the night sometimes
while my day was full of cheer
my night was full of tears
and I cannot be eased by rhymes

stop telling the world you really care
if you did we’d all be fine
and all would be divine
like a sunburst in the air 

picture your world in a land of disaster
and only what comes out is love
keep your darkest thoughts in a box of alabaster
or they’ll fit this hopeless world like a glove

Box of Alabaster

Roscoe - piano, marimba, glockenspiel, tape
Gaia Ramsdell - violin, vocals

production and artwork by Roscoe

Hey mister, what's your name?
Julian. 

How old are you?
Three. 

Three?
I don't know.

You don't know where you live? Who do you live with?
Mom and Dad and Justin.

That's right! Are they your brothers? Are they your baby brothers or big brothers?
Big brothers. 

Hi Justin!
Hi.

Alright, Justin. Tell us about your name and how old you are and where you live and about your family.
Okay. 

You don't have to hold it so close. Just sit there--just talk. 
Talk talk!

Tell me about your name and age and where you live.
I live with Mom and my name is Justin and I'm four years old. 

Who else is in your family?
Daddy and Maggie and Julian.

Who's Julian?
The baby!

The baby? Your little baby brother?
Yeah. 

So you're  a big brother now?
Yeah.

You like being a big brother?
Yeah.

What's the best part about being a big brother?
Take care of him.

You like to take care of him? That's good. Alright I'm almost running out. 
Alright.

Okay I'll see you a little later, okay?
Okay. 
Bye!
Bye. 

I love Julian, I love Julian, I love Julian! I love Julian Julian. I love Julian!

Julian, I really really love you! Julian! Julian Julian Julian Julian Julian.

I really really love Julian! Julian Julian Julian Julian Julian Julian Julian Julian Julian Julian Julian Julian. I love Julian.

Why don't you give that back to me now?
Wait, Mommy, I can't hear what I said.

Little Brothers

from Ekistic Psalms, released 07 January 2015 

Roscoe - vocals, guitar 

lyrics and production by Roscoe

There’s three days left, 
three days left of the summer. 
Three days left, 
three days left—what a bummer! 
Three days left, 
three days left of the summer. 
Three days. One thing to do. 

I got to put my guitar in the car and drive to straight to you— 
we only got three days! 

There's two days left, 
two days left of the summer. 
Two days left, 
two days left—what a bummer! 
Two days left, 
two days left of the summer. 
Two days. Two things to do. 

I got to put my guitar in the car and drive to straight to you 
and call all our friends— 
we’re just two days 'till the end! 

Now there's one day, 
one day left. 
So let’s make, 
let's make it the best. 
There's one day, 
one day left. 
One day. Three things to do. 

I got to put my guitar in the car and drive to straight to you 
and call all our friends because we got play one more song— 
now the summer’s almost gone!

Sincere Summer Song #2

from Ekistic Psalms, released 07 January 2015 

Roscoe - vocals, guitar 

lyrics and production by Roscoe

"See the thing is, 
we don’t really talk in terms of love anymore. 
Some might say that’s odd, 
since we’re in a relationship or whatever, 
but I disagree with that. 
It isn’t odd at all considering you’re you, and I am me. 
Yeah, we large thinkers have more important things 
to occupy our time." 

End quote. 
That’s what you wrote. 

"Love can be a quiet thing, 
unobtrusive in the corner of your mind 
while the rest of your brain churns and romps about, 
absorbing whatever else it can find. 
Maybe your love is so quiet, still, and unassuming 
that even you forget it’s there some of the time, 
but that doesn’t mean that it’s gone 
or that it wasn’t there in the first place. 
It’s there, it’s warm, and it’s breathing." 

End quote. 
That’s what you wrote. 

But I didn’t write you back 
because your love is like an insistent child, 
demanding outrageous portions of attention. 
And your love is a chaotic whirlwind, 
an ever-present cycle of consuming compulsion. 
So forgive me for taking so long to return your note. 
Here’s what I wrote... 

"You’re damn right my love is quiet. 
You were right about most things, but you got one thing wrong. 
My love is only hiding in the corner 
for fear of looking dumb."

Love Note (End Quote)

from Ekistic Psalms, released 07 January 2015 

Anjali - piano 
Roscoe - vocals, guitar 

lyrics and production by Roscoe

What makes us different from the animals? 
That’s a good question. 

We make families like bucks and does. 
We make plans, so do crows. 
We can be happy like dogs wagging tails. 
We feel pain like harpoons to whales. 

So if not feelings, if not culture, 
if not sophistication in the social structure, 
if we’re all subject to biological rules, 
then what makes us different from the animals? 

Is it our thumbs or our tools? 
What makes us different from the animals? 
That’s a tough question. 

Like capuchin monkeys, we know what’s fair, 
but we kill and maim, like grizzly bears. 
We don’t fall far from the tree 
of bonobos and chimpanzees. 

So if not morals, if not heart, 
if not our genome, for the most part, 
if not our thumbs or our tools, 
then what makes us different from the animals? 

Is it our guns or our schools? 
What makes us different from the animals? 
That question! 
It’s exactly that question. 

The human brain might have a unique function 
in the right temporoparietal junction. 
Its job is to hypothesize people’s thoughts, 
whether they say them or... 

So maybe the difference is this theory of mind, 
but it’s of degree, not of kind. 
If you’re drunk or autistic or below the age of six, 
your theory of mind is at a deficit. 
Now that I think of it, it is not evident 
that we’re all that different from the animals. 

We’re not that different from the animals. 
What makes us different from the animals? 
That’s a good question.

... Us ... Animals?

from Ekistic Psalms, released 07 January 2015 

Anjali - vocals, piano 
Roscoe - marimba, glockenspiel 

lyrics by Anjali 
production by Roscoe

shrink myself now way down small 
grab myself a piece of yarn 
lodge my self in when you breathe 
make my way behind your teeth 

find my way up to your brain 
swimming through your giant veins 
this is magic you can’t see 
I’m pulsing through your mind and body 

red blood cells dance before my eyes 
they can't see I'm under disguise 
I’ve reached it now, I’m at the top 
I’m here to investigate, ready or not 

your mind’s a labyrinth, your mind’s a maze 
I’m feeling like a minotaur your mind’s a maze 
your mind’s amazing, your mind’s a maze 
I’m feeling like a minotaur your mind’s a maze 
I’m feeling like your beating heart, your mind’s a maze

Minotaur

from Ekistic Psalms, released 07 January 2015 

Roscoe - vocals, guitar 

lyrics and production Roscoe

The students sit on sunny steps in the campus, 
where they solve their problem sets until they’re famished, 
then they chow down chicken burritos at Chipotle 
on May Day. 

The workers took a train downtown to the rally, 
demanding better benefits and salaries, 
chanting, “El movimiento adelante!” 
on May Day. 

The students go to office hours of professors 
to protest against the power of that letter— 
the final grade on their essay on Don Quixote— 
on May Day. 

And Don Quixote never marched beside Rocinante, 
the horse that bore the man’s weight, 
as he tilted at windmills every day. 

Adelante, Rocinante, adelante!

International Workers' Day

from Ekistic Psalms, released 07 January 2015 

Anjali - piano 
Roscoe - vocals, guitar 

lyrics by Roscoe 
production by Roscoe

Dead leaves will choke the drain. 
Storm sewers will erupt into geysers. 
Dams will fall along the fault lines. 
There will be high tides, new records. 

Faucets will bleed red and black 
on the day they get us back. 

There will be roadkill gumming up the highway. 
There will be beehives that splatter the asphalt. 
There will be rainclouds that outpace airplanes 
when the Hail Mary Hurricane sings its swan song. 

There will be streetlights tied in knots 
on the day they give it their last shot. 

At a quarter to midnight, people will crawl 
one by one into bed and sleep ever after. 
The wind will whistle a rousing tune 
as the trees dive into every bedroom. 
One by one, they will crash 
through the glass and the plaster. 

The only sound will be wind humming 
on the day we get what’s coming. 

Someday we’ll get what’s coming.

Hail Mary Hurricane

from Ekistic Psalms, released 07 January 2015 
dedicated to Amy Krouse Rosenthal 

Anjali - vocals, piano 
Gaia - violin 

lyrics by Anjali 
production by Roscoe

years and years and years ago 
before it hit the earth 
before we saw it truly 
before we knew its worth 

lonely, lonely, lonely 
the stars would cry in pain 
give the world a little something 
wrapped up in the rain 

that planet looks so lonely 
the cosmos all agreed 
the milky way said help them now 
it’s time we let them see 

they summoned up some sunlight 
and sprinkled in some shade 
they signed a card in stars above 
it’s bright, but will not fade 

and it remained 

let there be lovely, lovely lovely 
let it course through the veins 
of all things bright and beautiful 
the flowers and the flames 

let there be lovely, lovely lovely 
scratch out all the Ns for Vs 
find it in the tree tops 
in the birds and bees 

let there be lovely lovely lovely lovely 
in the spark of a creature’s eye 
in that strange and curvy smile 
in the wind that’s waltzing by 

lovely lovely lovely 
yellow umbrellas, gates of clouds 
thank you, thank you universe 
I hear your lovely loud

Lovely

from Ekistic Psalms, released 07 January 2015
 
Blake - guitar 
Darius - piano 
Roscoe - vocals, guitar 

lyrics and production by Roscoe

As I unhinge the door 
of our familiar tinderbox, 
I rip your red post-it note right up. 
Twenty-six cursive letters 
written in a fit of routine passive rage 
spell out, “Don’t forget to follow your love." 

What does that mean? 
What does that mean? 
Do you follow me? 

I slip my shoes off in the hallway, 
blinking twice when I catch your clouded eye 
as I try to piece together your note. 
You shrug your shoulders 
and fold your friction heat matchstick arms, 
turning around to light up the stove. 

What does that mean? 
What does that mean? 
Do you follow me? 
Do you follow me? 

We fall asleep in a hurry, 
darting backwards to our best-forgotten dreams 
where we breathe for six hours as smoke fills the air. 
It comes through cracks in the ceiling, 
through the bedroom door that's always left ajar 
and all the little things we forget to repair. 

What does that mean? 
What does that mean? 
Do you follow me? 

And we choke on the smoke signals— 
hand-written riddles on recycled notes. 

And we choke on the smoke signals— 
unspoken symbols simmer on the stove. 

And the smoke will be our end.

Daily Smoke Signals

from Ekistic Psalms, released 07 January 2015 

Isaac - guitar 
Roscoe - vocals, piano 

lyrics and production by Roscoe 

Humor me for four minutes as I think some things through. 
I’ve been on campus nine months, but I’m still quite confused 
by everyone I met my freshman year. 

I’ll stick to the words of Woody Guthrie, 
who said, "All you can write is what you see." 
What I saw is what you’ll hear— 
I’ll do my best to get it right. 

I saw the “best minds of my generation” 
dress like Ginsberg, but with no emulation 
beyond button-downs shirts, dope, and stylish shoes. 
They’re wearing his glasses, but don’t have his eyes. 
Despite all their classes, they can’t realize 
it’s an iron lion cage in a blue and white zoo. 

I saw square pegs fit square holes. 
I saw a sophomore on a laptop make a list of short-term goals. 
It had one word: ease. 
I saw seminar students voicing their hopes 
and their ‘is this worth it?’ fears with oft-told nervous jokes 
about how Jack Kerouc, Langston Hughes, and Alicia Keys 
all dropped out. 

This Morningside Heights zeitgeist makes me doubt. 

I saw herds of girls flock to sorority rushes— 
to bake sales and walks to promote social justice. 
Why does it feel like they’re promoting themselves? 
I saw few know-it-alls and a lot know-it-nots 
that were propped up by parents and the tutors they bought. 
Some think cocaine is how you rebel. 

I saw affluent students co-opt counterculture. 
I saw human rights majors eat dead meat like vultures, 
except on Mondays—that’s a start. 
I saw commercial creatives consult in design, 
abstract activists with pretend picket lines. 
I heard a preacher from Harlem crack a joke about Marx— 
said, "The first will be last." 

This Morningside Heights zeitgeist makes me laugh. 

I saw a poet on a path stop to watch the trees. 
She thought about spring, not the oxygen she breathes. 
Same with her parents and their green. 
I saw a sociology student who never shuts up 
about class reproduction and social constructs, 
but I wonder if he’ll do anything. 

I saw the brilliant sons and daughters of the power elite 
relativizing their privilege to maintain the mystique 
that what they do hurts no one. 
They’re bound to win bread, but they ain’t bound to share it 
if they’re still clinging on to naive notions of merit. 
Hypocrites! Every last one. 

But in the end, these are my friends. 
And in the end, I’m no better than them. 
In the end, it’s hard to know... 

if this Morningside Heights zeitgeist is home.

Morningside Heights Zeitgeist

from Ekistic Psalms, released 07 January 2015 

Blake - guitar 
Darius - piano 
Roscoe - vocals, guitar 

lyrics and production by Roscoe

Hey Mom and Dad, it’s really great 
to see your same, smiling faces again. 
It’s good to be home. 

And little bro—yeah, you’re real tall. 
I remember when you were so small. 
Do you know how much you’ve grown? 
It’s good to be home. 

It's good to be home where I know the name of every street 
and I can shower with bare feet—no flip-flops. 

I had forgotten the feeling of a standard, stoic family dinner 
interspersed with a burst of small talk about housekeeping. 
It’s good to be home! 
Oh it’s good to be home. 

Hey Mom and Dad, did you say that to Carlos—the Kobe cook— 
because he looks Mexican? 

Oh yes, the irony! Hibachi is Japanese. 
But to folks that aren’t white 
your jokes are more like microaggressions. 

It’s good to be home! 
Oh it’s good to be home. 

It's good to be back where we keep it all under wraps 
like the leftover lasagna in the fridge 
and no one takes out the garbage. 

Oh yes it’s really nice to visit, 
but I can’t stand this same old bullshit. 
I love you! I love you all, but I cannot stay. 
See you next holiday. 

Oh home! 
Oh, oh, home.

Good To Be Home

Double Stuf Oreos, 
double the fun— 
twice as much Oreo 
as one. 

Double Stuf Oreos, 
yum yum yum— 
infinite times more Oreo 
than none.
 
Roscoe — vocals, MIDI programming 

lyrics and production by Roscoe


Double Stuf Oreo

Ellie’s eyes are like the skies—infinite pools of cerulean blue. 
And below she’s got two great legs… plus big boobs. 
Although Ellie tells me that I’m piggish and rude, 
I know when Ellie 
smells me, 
we will screw. 

Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. 
When she smells me, 
we will screw. 

Ellie’s perfect, a perfect angel, a flawless object for which I lust. 
And thanks to Axe I can have her... for a few bucks. 
Although Ellie tells me that I’m a sexist schmuck, 
I believe when Ellie 
smells me, 
we will fuck. 

Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. 
When she smells me, 
we will fuck. 

When this shower gel is on my chest, 
she will come under my spell—that’s the Axe Effect. 
When Ellie 
smells me, 
we’ll have sex. 

Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. 
When she smells me, 
we’ll have sex.

vocals by Dan Ramström

written and produced by Dan Ramström

Axe Excite Shower Gel

GPS maps your route. 
Follow it, no doubt. 
Information, navigation, entertainment machine— 
one screen. 

Back-up camera, 
built-in Pandora, 
recommendations for gas stations and local cuisine— 
one screen. 

I’m an infant, dumb and blind. 
You’re the midwife, calm and wise. 
So calm and wise. 

AM, FM, satellite, 
LCD display with the backlight, 
CDs, DVDs, and an iPod dock— 
one box. 

Android or iPhone, 
never feel alone. 
Bluetooth phone booth, no hands when you talk— 
one box. 

I am a toddler lost in the mall. 
Comfort and guidance, you give it all. 
You give me all. 

I am a teen, ten miles down the wrong road. 
You’re the police, bringing me home. 

I’m an adult with no clue. 
You’re the boss. Tell me what to do. 

I’m a blank slate, empty and white. 
You’re my eyes and my mind. 
You are my mind.

Gaia — vocals 
Roscoe — vocals, samples, MIDI programming 

lyrics and production by Roscoe

Pioneer In-Dash Car Navigation System

If you’re so rich that you will pay 
for water that’s fizzy, 
then sip on a San Pellegrino 
it is guaranteed 
to make water fizzy. 
That’s what it ought to be, 
but normally water’s not fizzy. 

San Pellegrino, San Pellegrino. 

If you’re so rich that you will pay 
for something that is free, 
then buy in bulk San Pellegrino 
it is guaranteed 
to make you feel fancy. 
That’s what you want to be, 
but inherently fancy isn’t free. 

San Pellegrino, San Pellegrino.

Gaia — vocals 
Roscoe — vocals, drums, bottles, MIDI programming 

lyrics and production by Roscoe

San Pellegrino Sparkling Water

They’re rising up from below. 
Operation roundup is a go. 

Our garden is good. 
Our garden is safe 
when we hit ‘em 
with the pump ‘n go continuous spray. 

But they’re rising up. They’re crouched in the grass. 
Green guerilla charlies poised to attack. 

Our garden is good. 
Our garden is safe 
when we hit ‘em 
with the ready-to-use glyphosate. 

Our garden is good 
when the weed killer’s pouring. 
Don’t ya love the smell of Roundup 
in the morning?

Gaia — violin 
Roscoe — vocals, drums, MIDI programming 

lyrics and production by Roscoe

Roundup Weed Killer

Everybody knows Oreo, Oreo. 
Everybody knows Oreo, Oreo— 
Japan, Mexico, Burkina Faso. 
Everybody knows Oreo, Oreo. 

Everybody knows Oreo, Oreo. 
Everybody knows Oreo, Oreo— 
Oman, Morocco, Puerto Rico. 
Everybody knows Oreo, Oreo. 

Everybody knows Oreo, Oreo. 
Everybody knows Oreo, Oreo. 
Our plan is to grow 
control of the whole globe 
so everybody knows Oreo, Oreo. 
Mmmh.

Roscoe — vocals, drums, MIDI programming 

lyrics and production by Roscoe

Oreo

If you had a ballroom in old England 
and I the courage to ask for your hand, 
we’d both know every step. 

If we were peasants scaring off crows 
from the fallow fields we have sown, 
we’d face no fork in the road. 

But we’re neither noble nor peasantry— 
no familiar choreography. 
Burn me a mix CD, 
and you cook for me 
tonight. 

If we were pawns in a world war 
writing of battles and babies at home, 
we’d predict each pen stroke. 

But we’re neither soldiers nor addresses— 
no familiar choreography. 
Burn me a mix CD, 
and you cook for me— 
write our own dumb choreography. 

We may step on some toes sometimes, 
but dance with me 
tonight. 

Burn me a mix CD 
tonight 
burn me a mix CD 
tonight 
burn me a mix CD 
tonight 
burn me a mix CD 
tonight 
burn me a mix CD 
tonight 
burn me a mix CD 
tonight 
burn me a mix CD 
and you cook for me— 
write our dumb choreography. 

We may step on some toes sometimes.

credits
from Senior Portrait, released November 17, 2017 
vocals by Dan Ramström and Marisa Brown 
acoustic guitar, xylophone, ukulele, and keyboards by Zach Calluori 

written by Dan Ramström 
produced by Zach Calluori 
photography by Yuping Zhang

Senior Portrait

Choreography

It started with a question you 
kept locked between your lips, 
and ended with strange fireworks 
burning down a bridge. 

They reached under your old sweater 
and pulled on the loose ends. 
Lightbulbs flickered as you fell 
in and out of bed 
the night you started kissing all your friends. 

Kiss kiss. 
Kiss kiss. 

You read aloud the diaries 
dancing in your head, 
and gerry-rigged a ferris wheel 
where you once played pretend 
the night you started kissing all your friends. 

Kiss kiss. 
Kiss kiss. 
Kiss kiss kiss. 

Spinning bottles followed you since middle school. 
Nobody’s an idiot when everyone’s a fool 
for you. 

Yesterday’s dumb thing to do 
and tomorrow’s common sense 
finally hooked up the night 
you started kissing all of your friends. 
Kiss kiss. 

Kiss kiss. 
Kiss kiss. 
Kiss kiss kiss. 

It ended with strange fireworks 
burning down a bridge, 
and started with a question you 
kept locked between your lips.

credits
from Senior Portrait, released November 17, 2017 
vocals by Dan Ramström, Marisa Brown, and Zoe Berg 
electric guitars, acoustic guitars, slide guitar, bass, and drums by Zach Calluori 

written by Dan Ramström 
produced by Zach Calluori 
photography by Yuping Zhang

The Roommate Song

I met an actor, guitar hid behind his door. 
Lent it to me after taught me these three chords. 

I met a climber ten steps down the convent hall. 
Brushed teeth together, swapping stories by the bathroom stall. 

Are you a friend of the heart? 
Or a friend of the road? 
Since you came in I’ve been aching to know. 

I met a fighter who hugged me tighter than most, 
warm as a fire burning a bit too close. 

Are you a friend of the heart? 
Or a friend of the road? 
Since you came in I’ve been aching for a true friend of the bones. 

Father told me, “In the city, 
it’s naive to believe people you meet 
will see you, reach out, and fit like a glove: 
they’re busy running in the long run. 
Search New York with a fine-toothed comb, 
every heart and every road, 
find what I found long ago: 
You are your own friend of the bones.”

credits
from Senior Portrait, released November 17, 2017 
vocals by Dan Ramström 
electric guitars, acoustic guitar, bass, drums, and tambourine by Zach Calluori 

written by Dan Ramström 
produced by Zach Calluori 
photography by Yuping Zhang

Friend of the Bones

Dan Ramström takes a fistful of everything he sees—love, shit, TV commercials—and crafts songs by the hundreds.

Dan Ramström

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