Cold and Distant, Not Loving

by Kerouac

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about

Limited re-pressing of Kerouac's debut album, "Cold and Distant, Not Loving". Available on transparent vinyl with black splatter effect. Co-release with Holy Roar Records.

www.tangledtalk.com/artists/kerouac
www.myspace.com/kerouac

credits

released 13 December 2010

Recorded at Ranch Production House between October and December 2009.
Produced, engineered and mixed by Neil Kennedy with assistance from Lewis Johns.

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Track Name: Heavy Hearted
All of our failures bleed into one, as all our successes come undone.
Track Name: Lay of the Landfill
This place is a landfill, spilling endless tongues, mouths that sting and spit empty threats. I know this isn’t how you saw your life; 19 and drowning in chemicals. When you say “I’m beautiful and I’m creative” I see behind those eyes and all I see is shame and lies. “o’ I am beautiful and I am creative” and your belief, it makes me shiver. You say you’re free but you’re stuck in a vice, scratching an itch from night to night. You say you’re free because it’s the only way that you can feel alive. And I’ll smile as I tell you so. I’ll be there at the end, when your dreams come falling down, and you will shiver.
Track Name: Little Mountains We Move
In hope but in reality that you won’t give up on me, I’ve gone deeper than you’d think I could, because at all angles I’m drowning in angels, like a space no lake could fill. This isn’t the photograph that I imagined years ago, I may be older but now it’s so much colder as a leaf on our family tree, but these violets remind me I’m golden. I never said it was for the best, I’ve never flown but I’ve not stopped running, I swear I’ll come good, I’ll push these mountains left to right and I’ll come back screaming ‘all these violets remind me I’m golden’. I see a winter make it’s way through the blinds, these four walls are met with the dimmest glow, I feel an apathy make it’s way down my bones, in the night time I’ll find comfort. I swear one day I’ll come good, I’m just stuttering right now, I swear one day I’ll come good and somehow I hope you know.
Track Name: Pale
It’s not a regression, but it’s a standstill, continuous broken continuity, you see a pale world behind swollen eyes. Tired legs tap off-tempo to the sound of a new song, and old teachings swell from throats of the past. You say a leopard can change it’s spots, but you still can’t see rainbows, it’s like a masterpiece painted with broken brushes and your belief lies in torn pages. Your belief lies in torn pages, torn pages that writhe and run down a path untrodden. Cold hearts beat inside broken cages. These heads lay buried in books, false script clothing their ears.
Track Name: Our Fathers' Guns
Silence and winter breath comes oh so naturally to me, it’s not enough to say that you’ll tame my tongue because there’s still a heart beneath. Sometimes misery hates company. I’ve been here for days and nothing comes to fill this page, but I’ve felt love and I’ve seen a sun rise on darker days. I’ll never stop, but I’ll lack the hope behind our fathers’ guns. We fail amidst our fathers’ guns, our hope, behind our fathers’ guns. All my roots they combine giving comfort on this line in a place that I don’t understand, all this winter I consume with a spring that never blooms, in a place that I don’t understand.
Track Name: A Bastard Behind the Eyes
Hope in our hearts but hate in our lungs, stuck on repeat our words, we become, we’re heavy handed poets, reciting verses that could bleed into one. O’ I’ll smile all across this line but I’m terrified of forever and you’ll watch me fail all along this line we call time, but you pride yourself on righteousness. I’ve not yet felt how I’m supposed to feel about where my life is going, and how I can learn from my mistakes, it’s just a work in progress, the promise I made, the excuse I gave, the damage is done.
Track Name: A Sheep. A Well.
Ink spills from forests of paper, writing above us of blue skies and lovers. Harmless teeth caught on cotton, these voices are muted ambitions are fleeting. We all ramble down the same road, our clocks spin on borrowed time, we all ramble down the same road, but what I hear is broken and buried lines. Ink spills from forests of paper, writing above us of blue skies and lovers. Harmless teeth caught on cotton, these voices are muted ambitions are fleeting and I’m not devoid of blame, but a heart beats behind every word I say. Where will you drink when these wells run dry? All wheels slow from time to time. Hope, it rains down from every word, a feeling from you I’ve not yet heard and you sing it like you mean it, but I know you don’t. Cold and distant not loving, these voices are cold and distant not loving. Mean what you say what you mean…