Pieces of burning paper fly to places where no Indie bands exist, recording songs about this wake in One Take...

Lyrics:
I'm sitting on the floor
of a beach house!
(Haha! Not listening to any 'Beach House'!)
Throwing away sepia photographs,
iconographs of times past,
like this fucking shade,
used in every family portait 
in the twenties!
But I've always been more fond
of the thirties,
or was it the forties?

[Chorus 1]
Pieces of burning paper fly to places, 
where no Indie bands exist
recording songs about this wake 
in one take.

[Verse 2]
Outside waves crushing 
down on surfers,
some girls are taking 
pictures of a cop car,
a dog is running
towards the ocean,
commotion,
his owner could use 
some help
finding his pants,
instead of posting 
photos of him 
to Instagram.

[Chorus 2]
Watching from my back porch,
about to torch something,
laughing,
I'm still failing to fire up
that piece of shit!
And pieces of burning paper fly
to places where no Indie bands exist
recording song about this wake
in one take...

One Take!

"You turned into a heart attack man..."
About the fall of a man into bankruptcy and obesity.

Lyrics:

[Verse 1]
I wasn't honest with you, my dear
For years I moved it in fear
Need to clear our name again
(No hesitation!)
Merchandise keeping down
the little man...

[Chorus]
(Pockets get fatter and fatter...)
Not from the stacks,
it's from the fat,
the saturated fat
with no trans fat!
The total fat!

[Verse 2]
Truth shapes the price,
price shapes the mind...
Bodies are temples,
souls sold for lies!
Can the price for lies
be ever too high, 
even if the price is right?

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
You turned into a heart attack man
sleeping in vans. 
Vans!
Pillows made of stacks of stacks of stacks,
full of health insurance plans...
They're only plans!

[Chorus]

[Closing Verse]
Guts were spilled 
'cause of fuckers going nuts
for old Northern lames,
antonyms of delays, 
doing plays on names,
rocking your brain
with degressive spasms,
if it's important to your eargasm,
read some letters:
"Got no D, still a fake O..."
Probably addressed an N 
like you with body odor.
Favorite pastime and sin 
letting people know 
that they're vain,
No pain, no gain
No Dilla J on vinyl!
So take your cow pie B
replace it with a T
and I'mma leave your S
with cuts and bruises
for the final, not-deserved 
rest, rest, rest...
(Shit!)

"Not bad! Good spread, bro!" (Steve Zaragoza Sample)

The Donut Song

A little groovy jam about a night at the club and goddamn cops.

LYRICS:
At the bar 
destilling drugs from my drinks,
slam dunking donuts 
into lined up coffee cups in front of me
I'm asking the bartender 
if he's an undercover cop 
He says:
"Yes, but if you want to spill the secret,
you gotta beat the clock."

And I'll be on it,
I'll be on it,
I'll be on it,
but first I gotta dance, dance, dance,
off with my head,
yeah, yeah, yeah

Some random chick approaches me,
then looks at me and says:
"Oh, I thought you were someone else!"
Someone else? 
I'm the life of this party!

In front of the bar,
I need some fresh air,
I got a feeling,
I won't find it here,
as the distance grows 
between me and the smokers,
I notice their smoke is following me!

As I hide to breathe...
I breathe.
And feel someone laying 
cuffs upon me.
The bartender says, 
I tried to break in into
some Christmas fair booth?!
And I'm like, wait, penetantiary,
I'll be on thee, 
be on thee,
be on thee,
but first I gotta dance,
I won't give them a chance,
yeah, yeah, yeah...

And I gotta dance, dance,
scream with me,
D.A.N.C.E.,
if you feel me,
this ain't no spelling bee,
just repeat after me,
D.A.N.C.E., D.A.N.C.E.,
and I'll be on it!
I'll be on it!
But first I gotta 
dance, dance, dance,
I'll be on thee. 
Be on thee! Be on thee!

D.A.N.C.E.

Loopy Interlude

This is a kitschy love song about watching Anime, different movie tastes etc. Filled with many according references.
Shout outs to Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson and Sofia Coppola for making "Lost in Translation".

LYRICS:
Something must have gone wrong,
I'm watching cartoons with the subtitles on,
Japanes animators, 
your stories make no goddamn sense.
It started off rather at 10 points,
then the score disappeared,
it was my choice,
Rotten Tomatoes had me fooled,
and I always thought,
trailers weren't that cool.

I never really thought 
that I'd fall for you
Drama is whole new world,
I just hope you get in,
I do, I do

I could your taste i horrible
but then my choice of words
would be horrible,
despite that your favorite movies
were the 3's of IMDB,
I suspected you to be
a method actress trying to play
a trick on me.

I never really thought 
that I'd fall for you
Drama is whole new world,
I just hope you get in,
I do, I do

So what about these girls
with huge eyes,
cookin' up rice for the hundredth time?
Lost in Translation,
don't want to be another Bill Murray again

And unlike Disney,
this isn't a perfect ending, 
no,
it may very well be a perfect beginning though

I never really thought 
that I'd fall for you
Drama is whole new world,
I just hope you get in,
I do

Lost in Translation

Check out the ILLUSTRATIONS for the 1st verse HERE:
http://tinyurl.com/js27wvu

The first verse is about a super fan of Josh Homme, band leader of the Queens of the Stone age and contains several references to their work and band lore. He breaks off his engagement and gets on his way to meet hid idol. Also contains reference to Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman.

The second verse revolves around a film student who wants to document his uncle's stroke for a school project. Contains many references to the garage giants The Strokes.

The third verse is about punk/hardcore culture and meth.

All three stories occur at the same time in New Mexico and are connected through the bridge. It is not clear, if the protagonists survive their stories.


LYRICS:

[Verse 1]
The print of her hand,
it still hurts,
and it was TOTALLYYY deserved,
this donut reminds me of her 
because she always ordered dessert
but I refuse to give up any chance
to meet my idol for a girl!

So in threes I drive off 
towards a Jewish tree, in the desert,
where it's only gonna be 
Josh, the devil and me!
Clarissa, it's me, tone-deaf bat!
You'll never hear this song mos def
and I'll die like a salesman.
Come on, Arthur!
NOT AGAIN!

[Verse 2]
It's weird,
I never got that reference before,
my uncle Al, 
he almost died of a stroke,
Got it? 
You probably don't and you won't.
Uncle Albert! 
MOM, GET THE CAMERA!
GET THE FUCKING CAMERA!

So in threes the ambulance
swerves aaround trees,
the driver's trying to grab my camera
Uncle Albert! Please!
I know, these angles are weird,
I know, you think I'm  a creep,
but with this lens 
I'll get them to ask me:
IS THIS IT?

[Bridge]
My first magic trick,
my first field trip,
I wonder how my first fit into this lyric...
WE USED TO LIVE HERE!
WE USED TO COOK HERE!
WE THOUGHT WE'D DIE HERE
WE THOUGHT WE'D DIE HERE
WE THOUGHT WE'D DIE HERE
(weird noise)
Now we don't even live here,
now we don't even live here,
even live here,
EVEN LIVE HERE!

[Verse 3]
EVERYONE!
Please stop moshing! Or else!
You're listening to too much rap music,
and not enough (The) Fall,
not enough guitar music,
Mark E. Smith my words,
Mark E. Smith my words!

So in threes,
we remember what bliss it is,
that your punk buddies 
have ceased to exist,
Albuquerque may be a small world,
but at least on one's here to
question my yearn for calculus!
Burn!
Burn, baby! 
Burn!



New Mexico

This is a nice intro.
Reminiscing of those good 'ole days of hand-made music like Death Cab.

Intro

"Life's such a movie, baby!"
- The Weeknd

Lyrics:

[Verse 1]
Ugly supermodels,
a billion dollars,
abuse of flour,
wet Asian towels.
No superpowers,
no more Twins Towers.
Reality distortion field
like Steve Jobs?
Nah, more like
Austin Powers!
I'm writing this,
working late hours,
at the nearest diner,
Dork Tower.
'Cause that's where
the sweetest soda is,
attracting hipster girls
wearing band names,
no one's ever heard of
all over their tits!

(Yeah, they got like...
like 10 Likes on Facebook!
I guess, this really is it!)

Haunted by bodybuilder boys,
written 'CLIT' in capital font 
all over their man's tits.
I'm one of the Watchmen,
quietly laughing 
at these degenerates
for thinking they're hot shit...
Choosing the line of best fit,
so don't ask me 
about these rhymes,
I'm actually the one,
who's full of it!
Looking at the dessert,
shirts short of 
falling as a burden,
Tim Burton setting
with no curtain to drop, 
'cause there's none!
Smiling while plotting
and staring while serving
B.I.G. cups of coffee
as notorious 
as those sized cups
in front of us.
Huey just offered 
those chicks 
some mixed nuts.
It's time to wrap things up,
tonight on the dinner bed
we're counting on guts.

[Chorus]
Life's such a movie, baby!
Time to take (in) that roofie!

(Wow! WOW!)

[Verse 2]
Shoutouts to Nerdcore prowess,
weeklong happy hours,
flat-chest glamour models
earning a billion dollars!
'Cause of Bobby, the bookie,
dead presidents good-looking,
with me and Huey, my roomie.
We bartend in Vegas
and tend to bar the doors
extra tight these nights.
Under the spotlight
we have another 
disposable Indie squeer band,
who came out of California's sunshine
to sound exactly 
like Indian imperators
playing 'Ruby'!

(Sound about right?)

With us we have
Trudy, Judy, Betty, Josie
eating mixed nuts,
"Bottoms up!",
asking what those
pink dots are,
but the only two questions
allowed are:
"Show me the bathroom?"
"Roofies or is it too soon?"
Model homes turn 
into brothels,
as we're cuddling
Jewish models.
Living the moment
with flying colors,
disemboweling
candy animals
with Frank Ocean's 
and Weeknd's 
auto-tunes vowels.
Slipping out of bras,
Israelis,
in the back of a car
with Bar Refaeli,
getting excited for 
this type of
chocolate bars
you just can't stay steady!
Tripping on 
milk and cookies,
listening to Ella Fitzgerald
getting all groovy,
as we lie on the carpet,
amusing, bruising,
abusing, confusing...
Name's Clooney,
is it kicking in?
George that is,
and if you think
it is forced,
I have no answer
except for: 
Maybe it is...

(ONE TAKE, MOTHERFUCKER!

'Cause, girl, if your life needs correction,
don't follow my direction!

Сказал Берри Вайт, дамы и господа, 
когда он был тут с нами последний раз в студио!
Радио Владивосток, Нью Йорк! 
Как раз играет группа:
You lack ambition.)

[Chorus] (Infinitely repeated.)
Life's such a movie, baby!
Time to take (in) that roofie!
















TransMission Part 1

WE STRONGLY RECOMMEND LISTENING TO THE INSTRUMENTAL VERSION FIRST, THE ONE WITH THE DARK COVER! THANK YOU FOR YOUR ATENTION!

This one right here... 
This is not a song, no, it's an exploitation movie in 4 minutes and 30 seconds. 

It's a tribute to DJs, to the pioneers of hip-hop, to the sampling technique, to Funk, to Jazz, to Blues, to Gospel, to everything...

The lyrics tell the story of Howard Little, a young man, who ends up being a spy for the Soviet Union. Though  The Cold War's almost over, we're not there yet.
Howard's passion has always been music though. So he escapes from prison to see his favorite DJ playing in New York. The authorities are after him, they assume the secret of the Russian weapons of mass destruction...

Musically it strives to capture the idea of insanity.

Get That Trombone, boy! or Friday Night 1978

'You lack ambition.' is a musical bedroom project, fusing nostalgia, humor and experimental nuances with today's Indie Pop  and alternative/undeground music ideas. Also, stay ambitious!

You lack ambition.

Popular tracks