I wrote “Sans Appétit” at 18, in my first year of college. I was starting to feel the side effects of ADHD medication, my relationship was unraveling, and nothing in life looked or felt like the scripted TV version I thought it would. This song is me trying to process that blur of brain chemistry, heartbreak, and disillusionment.
Here are the lyrics:Lately I don't have much of an apetite
Yeah I feel like somethings not quite right with the chemicals in my brain
Lately I've been getting pretty tired of life, I know that's awful but it's just the way I feel. See I was born with the curse of the middle class; always a glass that's half-full but I'm still so thirsty. I was raised in front of a t.v. screen, now I can't pay attention to fucking anything.

I can't tell the difference between reality and fantasy
I can't differentiate between my waking life and some scripted t.v. dream
but I hear soft voices calling out to me
rubbery fingertips trying to unbend my knees
electrical signals just barely misfiring
rolling fog that blurs by fast and clean

I can see them
standing on some distant shore
the reasons that I can't be pure
they escape my grasp

So I'll stay here where I lay in the grass
the dew soaks my shirt 'till I'm cold and wet
so I'll try to unbutton it
but my fingernail snags the thread
now I'm coming undone

Well, I've always bee a sufficient seamster
but when I threaded that needle through her
lips she bit the tip and now I'm covered in rust and blood

and I can no longer believe
a single thing she says to me
no I cant tell the difference between
reality and fantasy
I can no longer believe a single word she says to me

Sans Appétit

This is a little folksy ditty I wrote way way back in my early twenties. Just a quick lyrical poem about putting on a brave face no matter whats going on below the surface. I was going through a lot of stuff in my early twenties. Most sensitive artist types do. When you wear your heart on your sleeve people may play a bit fast and loose with it. The game of love can get really messy sometimes. Well ok, heres the thing about masking sometimes; you can pretend everythings ok if you want to-even when its not, but if you act like everything is ok, and you're a good enough actor, everyone is probably gonna think that everything is ok. If you're really going through some shit you should let people in who care about you and allow them to at least try to alleviate some of that pain you're carrying around all the time. Like that vampire movie says tho, just make sure you let the right one in. 
"Clown Louse"
Everybody thinks
that I am who I seem
but its comic-relief
Im really bursting at the seams
with all this looming doubt
it bites me like a louse
her friends sleep in my bed
around my dirty bare feet
they light campfires 'round my head
and they try to cook my dreams

Clown Louse

Yr Breaking My Linzer Heart

By Garrett Haran – Søul Søap

Lyrics

Guitar, you’ve gotta weep for me
Just do it slowly, please
’Cause she mounted my heart on a string
And she put it in a box
Tied with red and white string that she got from the bakery
Filled with those Italian jelly cookies
Now the feeling I get inside when we speak
Is crumbly and sticky and sweet
And slippery with hot fresh blood.

So guitar, you’ve gotta speak for me
’Cause I’m on a losing streak
Be honest with me and for me
Molly, you know I don’t have the strength to be.

It’s hard to explain but it’s not you and it’s not me
Yeah maybe it’s hard to believe
But it’s not you and it’s definitely not me.

So guitar, you’ve gotta pray for me
Won’t you lean down and hear my plea?
Ganesha has many hands
And he holds my past and some hope for a future in them
But all twenty fingers are strangling me.

Life’s getting so bad that I can hardly breathe
But I can get outta my mind for a while at least
With these drugs that are taken with ease
Or I could soak every tissue in alcohol
Till my brain is swimming and I go blind with relief...
Trust me, I’m that thirsty.

But I don’t wanna end up in a shallow grave
At the unripened age of twenty
What a tragedy that would be.

Notes
This song is basically the thesis statement behind what was going on with me when I was writing the bulk of the Soul Soap One songs.

At its core, Søul Søap began as a way for me to feel catharsis through songwriting. As much as I thought it was cool to play guitar, it was always about feeling comforted. I would listen to Bright Eyes records all the time and scream along to them like those lyrics were my lyrics, like those feelings were my feelings too.

The song explores my feelings of betrayal and wanting to escape a relationship I was in at the time.

Linzer Heart was born from a meditation: me alone in my bedroom at 18, feverishly strumming C chord after C chord until a trance took over.
“Guitar, guitar, guitar, guitar… you’ve gotta speak for me.”
“You’ve gotta weep for me.”
“You’ve gotta pray for me.”

I was offering it all up. Everything too much for me to handle alone, I made a covenant with the music to take it off my chest. Please! For the love of God! Purge me of emotions too big for my teenage heart.

The Linzer tart was the perfect stand-in for my heart. At Sweet Hollow Diner — where I spent late nights with friends in my teens — I also met up with my high school girlfriend. The diner sold massive cookies, heart-shaped and sandwiched around raspberry jam, with a window showing the gooey insides. Powdered sugar coated the outside. They were delicious but a mess — “crumbly and sticky and sweet,” the perfect metaphor for the way our young love was taking shape. I bought her one on our first date, and again as an anniversary gift.

(Yr Breaking My) Linzer Heart

This is a song about being so over an ex that you’ve come full circle back to loving them again despite still claiming the right to wave the flag of “wow that girl fucked me up.”                                                                                “Bruised Fruit”
By Garrett Haran
From Soul Soap One

Even where theres no seed of love you’d still sew one
Quench its thirst with cold water and drench it in gold sun
You’re certain theres nothing wrong with trying to grow one
Even if it dies young we’ll still have some fun

Besides the seeds got nothing but potential for you
The seeds got only hope for what might come true

And even where theres no thing called love you’d still find it
With some utterly listless. Self-proclaimed scumbag
Who wouldn’t appreciate you
Just like I so seldom truly did

But Ive got nothing but friendship left for you
Yeah well-wishing are all Ive got left to give

Pluck a juicy ripe fruit and sink your teeth into its skin
Revel in the sweet sugar-spit as it rolls down your chin
That fruit couldn’t have known what you had in store for it
I’d never seen someone chew through the whole core before

Bruised Fruit

“Christ’s Wounds! Christ’s Boots!”
That was the original name for this track — one of the first songs I ever wrote. Listen to that acoustic guitar jangle! I’m pretty sure that was Eli’s knockaround acoustic he kept in his bedroom. Everybody’s got one of those guitars, but not everybody records their album with one. Very Søul Søap move tbh.

When it hit Bandcamp, the release title was “Zounds! (Christ’s Boots).” For the uninitiated: “Zounds!” was a swear in Shakespearean times — what’s called a minced oath, a way of blaspheming without getting caught by the censors. It’s a mash-up of “Christ’s Wounds,” a reference to the stigmata. In this song, it’s ghoulish overkill — because let’s be real, having an unreciprocated crush is not that big a deal. (Come down off the cross, we need the wood.)

There’s also the image of Jesus in sandals walking on water, and us in boots trudging through puddles. Boots are a metaphor for protecting yourself — like how you might protect your heart by not saying how you really feel. Do yourself a favor: take the boots off and get it over with.

Here are the lyrics to “Zounds! Boots!”

There’s nothing like a pair of rainboots
to make you feel like a god
when you're knee-deep in snow
beneath the boughs of the great red oak in my front yard.

Or a pair of tangerines,
who look as though they're about to scream:
“Ils ne se quittent pas.
Ils boivent le jus des fruits de la révolution.”

We’ll read people’s names and thoughts at our feet
off the bricks in the square.
They all say:
“in retrospect…” or
“hey, I wish…” or
“do you remember when…?”

And no, we didn’t scratch them there
in chewing gum with bits of your hair
but it could’ve been us.
It should’ve been me.
We all choke on those same tickling sentiments.

As we delve deeper into the forest,
the trees grow together on all sides
and there’s no light
but the light from your eyes
and the moon.
And I fear it’s too late to turn back now.

But it’s never too late
to slip on a pair of galoshes.
They’ll keep you afloat like Jesus Christ,
’cos I know it’s hard to stay dry sometimes —
but you gotta try.
Yeah, you really just gotta try.

’Cos if you fail —
I should say, when you fail —
just don’t let those bones set
even if it takes all night
to pull out every nail
and kick off of your cross before it drowns you…

In the sea of apathy
I won’t weep and she can’t cry.
In the sea of apathy
I try hard to forget
that we’re all dying…
at least inside.

quick shoutout to Mike Kostaras on drums and Eli Sokolow on the bass. Myself on guitar and vocals. Lyrics and arrangements by me, Garrett Haran

Zounds! (Christ's Boots)

Here we go. Seminal emo-leaning indie folk from my early catalogue. Sitting in my teenage bedroom in the suburbs of Melville, Long Island and ruminating over my relationship with my teenage girlfriend. I strummed the few chords I knew in a pattern that felt familiar. How do you write a blues song if you’ve never played the blues? We’ve all felt the blues though. So I was trying to play a blues song using the folk chord voicings I’d learned from playing along to the acoustic Bright Eyes songs I’d been listening to religiously. And I sang my lyrics like a prayer:                                                                            “I thought I was over you.
 Yeah I thought I was over you.
 But if I was over you, 
I guess I wouldn’t feel so blue,
 so I guess I’m not over you.

But I thought I’d be better now
Yeah I thought I’d be better by now
But I’m pacing round my room 
And Im still wearing your sweater
So I guess Im not better yet

But I thought it would hurt less
Yeah I didn’t know it would hurt so bad
When you let some other guy slip you outta your dress
I thought it would hurt less
I thought it would hurt a whole lot less

Now the lord said just be strong
And he said “harden not your heart”
But my hearts got a shelf-life
Just like everything else
And I feel it passing now
And I feel like Im passing out

And Socrates said “know thyself”
He said boy, don’t go being a fool
So my love for you is like 
a flickering shadow on a cave wall
And Im putting the fire out,
Yeah Im snuffing that candle now

Cos you know I don’t have to take this shit
No, especially not from you
So Im sorry about all those things I said
Yeah, I didn’t mean to be so cruel
But I was trying to get over you
I was just trying to get over you”
 It’s a song I wrote when I was still a teenager, 18 or so I think. Id play it out sometimes at parties and some family gatherings. My dad and his friends would joke and say “yeah I wrote this song when I was in prison.” Bolstering the image of the old hurt bluesman who was alive inside this skinny teenager in ripped jeans with shaggy hair. When I was twenty something… Idk 24 or whatevr maybe, when I met Eli and hired him to record my first collection of songs I had to relearn the weird strumming pattern. It seemed so amateur that it was somehow beyond where I had arrived at in my ability as a guitarist. It’s funny how that happens as you get “better” at something you have trouble pulling off moves you basically think you invented when you first started.

Over You

Beat made/prod. by U-ISA Beats.
Lyrics written by T•Dub, Lil' C, Dylerious, and Lil' Autism.
Rapped by T•Dub, Lil' C, Dylerious, and with a feature from Lil' Olaf.

Thank you Lil' C and Dylerious for joining me for this song, and Lil' Olaf for featuring! Also big thanks to Lil' Autism for helping me pin down some of the first parts of the song writing wise, you were a big help there. Let's make it out of the suburbs!

Lyrics:
(Ei! Whaddup finnashawty? Rich T-Dub music)

Verse 1 (T•Dub):
I'm off a payroll, of tangeled bagels, with that fabled maple, from staples in Naples, tryna do the jangle, on a stable table
I do my dance its a tango tango tango
Opps be fruity like (mango mango mango)

Chorus:
(Just T-Dub) Song! Song of the summer, sweet potato pie no this aint no bummer!
(T-Dub add Lil’ C) Song! Song of the summer, sweet potato pie no this aint no bummer!
(All of us) Song! Song of the summer, sweet potato pie no this aint no bummer!

Verse 2 (Lil’ C, Lil’ Olaf):
It’s C, Lil’ Olaf’s on my right
Barking at the opps, given’ them a fright (woof woof)
Stayin’ away from bops cuz they got lice
Depends if they nice, it’s a roll of the dice

Walkin’ round the suburb, no one knows my band
Uzi in my left, carbine in my right hand
Walkin’ on my opps, yk they gonna scram 
When I pull out glock, they back to their clan

Verse 3 (Dylerious):
It’s your boy Dylerious, yeah im on the beat
I’m boutta serve you up a tasty treat
My opps are sitting on the electrical seat 
Got his hair to the side, yeah he’s looking neat

My gun goes “brrat” but dont add relish
Pullin up to the burb with all my fellas 
We lookin’ fly, yeah our opps are jealous
When we strollin’ by they be over-zealous 

Verse 4 (T•Dub):
The name’s T-Dub, I’m the best in town
My hits are up, opp’s syndrome down
Make my enemies sleep yeah they in a nightgown
Smiling big, no I ain’t gonna frown

Popped my opp’s tires, yeah they flat
None of my homies are gonna rat
Callin’ them in prison, gonna have a chat
Some of them got the padded mats 

Chorus:
(Just T-Dub) Song! Song of the summer, sweet potato pie no this aint no bummer!
(T-Dub add Lil’ C) Song! Song of the summer, sweet potato pie no this aint no bummer!
(All of us) Song! Song of the summer, sweet potato pie no this aint no bummer!

Verse 5 (Lil’ C):
Pullin’ up in my Bently yeah my rims are shiny
They glare so bad that the opps are blinding
Wrong place, wrong idea, and wrong timing
Now a restraining order is what I'm signing

Flying to Brazil the latinas are bad
Paying girl’s bill now she calling me rad
Rizzing girl til’ she thinks im a chad
My new kid’s chill, now I’m a dad!

Verse 6 (Dylerious):
The government can see that my fighting’s based
So they enlisted me to the United States
Army, where I’ll be driving in a tank
Fly as I can be, money in my bank

Got a purple heart, feeling super smart
Got a fast car, a new fresh start 
Rising in the charts, quick like a dart
Buying fly clothes from the K-Mart

Verse 7 (T•Dub):
I pulled up to the wrong side of town
And so what did I choose? A showdown
I got all chewed, beat up, and with a frown
So I decided to change my route

Getting paper in my wallet
Gonna have to bite the bullet
When the opps pull up
Amends is what I’ll show ‘em

Chorus:
(Just T-Dub) Song! Song of the summer, sweet potato pie no this aint no bummer!
(T-Dub add Lil’ C) Song! Song of the summer, sweet potato pie no this aint no bummer!
(All of us) Song! Song of the summer, sweet potato pie no this aint no bummer!
Song! Song of the summer, sweet potato pie no this aint no bummer!
Song! Song of the summer, sweet potato pie no this aint no bummer!
Song! Song of the summer, sweet potato pie no this aint no bummer!

(Fade out, end of song)

If you made it this far down thank you! You're a top dog.

Song of the Summer (With Lil' C and Dylerious)

vampire

tr3nches

Catch My Drift

We getting out the suburbs.
Newest song "Song of the Summer" out now on here or YouTube!

Søul Søap is doomy garage rock with a slacker grin — indie heartache tangled in fuzz, folk melodies buried in noise. The sound of thunder and driving rain rolling in through the window you left open in the  basement. It’s intricately messy (the way a silk web is when you give a spider caffeine),  raw, and strangely tender.

New tracks tagged #Suburbs