demo trax

by Platzangst

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1.
05:08
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05:13
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04:29
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07:49
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05:08
8.
03:19

about

This isn't really an album so much as just a category to stash loose demo tracks that I'm working on. Everything here will probably need to have some final mastering done, perhaps some re-recording in certain cases. Tracks may be deleted if I ever finish the projects of which they are a part. But you can see some of the other stuff I'm trying to do.

Some of these poor projects, I really need to get back to work and get them finished.

credits

released January 1, 2009

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all rights reserved

about

Platzangst Muscatine

Platzangst sometimes makes noise, and sometimes makes music. Sometimes a little of both at once. What will come next? Difficult to say. Who likes it? Precious few.

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Track Name: Cut the Black Wire
Is it true?
Send it through
Put the man in the room
Clear the scene
Make it clean
Gonna need some light to work
Is there time?
Is there space?
Detach the bolts from the case
Now here's the parts
All the parts
All the pretty colored parts

A hundred lines
Watch the time
Keeping pace with the count
Making clicky clicky clicky with the grips of the pliers
Here's the chart
Shall we start?
Are these instructions still good?
Cross your fingers
Cross your heart
Cross the conductors and press hard, now:

Collapse or structure
Which way will it drop?
When you cut the black wire
Which beat will it stop?

Cut the sound
Knock it around
Make sure the cords are taped down
Put the eyes in the room
Test the zoom and rig the boom
We're counting back
Keep on track
Subtracting time with each fact
Now here's the lines
All your lines
Hundred consecutive lines

Is the message still good?
How will we know when it's been heard?
Check the signal
Check the air
Satellite throws from here to there
No more time
No more space
No more data left to trace
Hearing ticky ticky ticky till the second hand hits back

Riot or quiet
Which way will it drop?
When you cut the black wire
Which beat will it stop?

Tap your finger
Tap the mouse
Tap your heel on the floor
Tap the desk
Tap the keys
Tap knuckles to knees
Too much time
Too much space
But not much air in the place
Cannot leave
Cannot stay
Too many clocks in the way

With every glance at the wall
The clocks will grind to a crawl
Beating ticky ticky ticky through the cracks of your shirt
Another third of a day
Another tick burned away
The hourglass drains out with all the feet in the parking lot

Werewolf or vampire
Which way will it drop?
When you cut the black wire
Which beat will it stop?

Here's your choice
Shall we begin?
Plug all the pieces back in
Missed the start of the race
Losing time
Losing space
Prepare yourself for the truth
Get set to move
Find the proof
Can you push yourself through
Or will you lay down and sleep?

Now write the lines
All the lines
A thousand pretty little lines
That have been clicking clicking clicking
In the back of your mind
Tap the wires
Tap the keys
Construct the construct by degrees
Provide the faithful insistence
Evidence of your existence

Nothing or something
Which way will it drop?
When you cut the black wire
Which beat will it stop?
Track Name: Song
The knobs on my FM receiver are broken and twisted
'Cause each time the goddamn DJ comes on, I kick it
He says "All the hits, all the time, until the end of existence"
But if he ever said the name of that goddamn song, well I missed it

Now, that song's the perfect expression of all my frustrations
But it hasn't even charted on the top one hundred in the nation
Don't know how it got played on some godawful Clear Channel station
All I remember about it is the chorus and a chord progression
(Which went something like)

Subtract the sum of you from me
And what is left is me
Subtract the sum of me from you
And what is left is me

In my Metro, the radio's taking the brunt of my cursing
'Cause it never plays that song and now the shotgun rider's conversing
"Are you sure it was a song? It mighta been just a jingle" (he says)
And no one says jack about an album or even a single

Now no one in my tiny circle of friends has ever heard it
Nobody's downloaded it - nobody has burned it
I'd like a hint - I think by this time I've earned it
I want a name - you'd think by this time I'd've learned it
(You know - that song that goes)

Subtract the sum of you from me
And what is left is me
Subtract the sum of me from you
And what is left is me

That song - it soothes my mind
That song - it might save my life
And I've been searching
And I've been listening
But I've been missing it
I've been missing that song
What is that song?

At the Best Buy, I'm tearing up the shelves of the CD department
And the clerk's got all the musical smarts of my Grandma
She says "I never heard of that, it must not be so great if we don't have it"
And she's cute but she can take her teenage attitude and cram it

Now that song's the current cause of all my distractions
Steering my thoughts, directing each of my actions
Why has this fragment stuck in my head and gone wrong?
How hard could it be to find one stupid pop song?
(One that sounds like)

Subtract the sum of you from me
And what is left is me
Subtract the sum of me from you
And what is left is me
Track Name: Easy Listening
It's so easy, listening to your strategic complaint
A silver history shot through with copper taste taint
Decryption is solid but reception is faint
It's so easy, listening to transcripts of the saint

It's so easy, listening to your justification
Painless instructions for brand new complication
Clever broadcasts and crystal insulation
It's so easy, listening to official implication

IMPROVED - for greater consumption
ENGRAVED - with the finest intention
REMOVED - all trace of objection
BEHAVED - no urge to mention

It's so easy, listening to the sirens debate
There are reasons for hiding on the plane of the slate
A focus group cutting out all signs of the trait
It's so easy, listening to the noise in the crate
Track Name: Disco
I'm often urged to take a stand
Invent a cause or invest in land
But static lifestyle disturbs me
Clinical movement for finder's fee
I find no profit in iron-clad clauses
Preferring random starts and pauses
Turn left here at the next corner
I'll explain more when it's over

You've got ambition to intercede
I've got the concept that you need
Scatter ennui, fantasize
Trap routine and euthanize
You're learning how to follow plans
I'll take the wheel in my own hands
And when I decide to take any action
Your only use will be for distraction

Go tell the DJ, there's a bomb in the disco
Go warn the band, that the stage is on fire
Scream to the audience, the party's interrupted
Announce on the airwaves then cut to commercial

Lessons on movements that never end
Dissect the disco, comprehend
Collapsing questions you'll never hear
You hold the camera while I steer
We're heading home now back before light
I think we're ready to call it a night
Do I escape responsibility
When I speak metaphorically

Go tell the DJ, there's a bomb in the disco
Go warn the band, that the stage is on fire
Scream to the audience, the party's interrupted
Announce on the airwaves then cut to commercial
Track Name: Reggae
I hit high school in the early eighties; Midwest intelligent and rurally cultured. Radio only told me of the Top Forty. Radio only told me of the classic rock. Radio wanted to tell me all about country but I didn't feel like listening. It would be a long time before cable TV would be able to tell me much of anything, not that I was paying much attention anyway.

By this time, probably like you, radio had told me of the song "I Shot the Sheriff" - as played by Eric Clapton. It never occurred to me that Bob Marley had recorded the song before - fact was, at the time I didn't even have a name for that style of music, and I had no clue who Marley was. I consider myself fortunate that I even picked up on New Wave music at the time. The closest I ever got to reggae was Eddy Grant. You know, that song, "Electric Avenue"?

I NEVER KNEW WHAT WERE REGGAE SONGS
WELL I WAS CLUELESS WHEN I WAS YOUNG
I DIDN'T KNOW ANY REGGAE SONGS
I WAS SO STUPID WHEN I WAS YOUNG

Well, a scattering of years later and I got me a bit of college and moved out to the West Coast. I got progressive and industrial and avant-garde all over the place. Radio and TV didn't tell me jack anymore, and I was searching out music that would make you flee in terror.

So I'm working in a phone store in a mall in California and my co-worker says she's impressed with my musical knowledge, you know - right on, I am now the music guru. And since I know so much about all this strange music maybe I could help her. She wants to get an album for her boyfriend. She wants to know if I can suggest an album to get him. Well, what kind of music does he like? She asks if I can recommend any good reggae bands. Reggae's his favorite type of music, you know. My mind starts to whirl, seeking info that isn't there - and I say:

Reggae? Like what - The Police?

I DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT REGGAE SONGS
I WAS A MORON WHEN I WAS YOUNG
I HAD NO CLUE ABOUT REGGAE SONGS
I WAS A DUMBASS WHEN I WAS YOUNG

Somewhere between one and two decades later, I'm back in the Midwest and I'm putting notes together for an album. I still am no reggae expert but I at least know it when I hear it. And I'm jotting down all the clever little song titles I might use, and thinking to myself, can I really make songs out of all these genres? I mean - ska, how the hell am I gonna make a song out of ska, right? Well, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

So I'm looking at all these names, words to describe different styles of music, words that separate and define us, words that keep us apart, words that we use to tell each other, hey, I'm the cool one because I listen to this type of music and you don't, words that limit us, let us close our minds to all but one or two things, words that keep us stupid and small and alone, and I was thinking:

You know, there's something to be said for when you were a kid, and you didn't care what type of music a song was, you just played the song, and it didn't matter what genre it was or who said it was cool, you liked it or you didn't and you waited for the next song to come along and you liked it or you didn't, and isn't there a lesson in there somewhere, that maybe if people weren't so damn worried about defining their lives through tiny little neat categories, maybe we could get along better, maybe we should get rid of all the labels and prejudice right now, maybe we could start with the music?

I DIDN'T CARE ABOUT REGGAE SONGS
I WAS SO CLEVER WHEN I WAS YOUNG
DIDN'T CARE ABOUT REGGAE SONGS
WELL I WAS BRILLIANT WHEN I WAS YOUNG

I DIDN'T CARE ABOUT REGGAE SONGS
I WAS A GENIUS WHEN I WAS YOUNG
I WAS A GENIUS WHEN I WAS YOUNG
I WAS A GENIUS WHEN I WAS YOUNG

I WAS A MADMAN WHEN I WAS YOUNG
I WAS FANTASTIC WHEN I WAS YOUNG
I WAS A MONSTER WHEN I WAS YOUNG
I WAS AMAZING WHEN I WAS YOUNG!
Track Name: Rap
Coats were thick out on the corner
They were watching someone crawl
It was half past "never mind, now"
When they finally made the call

And when they made it to the lobby
There wasn't anybody there
Had to scratch it off the clipboard
Had to dust an empty chair

Ask me if I'll take the rap for you
Ask me if I'll take the fall
The fact you even ask the question
Says that you don't know me at all

A sober book of snapshots
Helped to catalog the sting
They left to fax the info
To a rumored office wing

Left your anchors in a pawnshop
Burned a bridge to hide your trail
They found your strategy for transplant
Suffocated in the mail

Ask me if I'll take the rap for you
Ask me if I'll take the fall
The fact you even ask the question
Shows you never knew me at all

An outlet at the airport
The ATM in the bar
A U-Haul south of Rosemont
Some spare change on the tar

Saw a problem in the parking lot
I slipped out of 403
Never found who wrote the e-mail
Couldn't trace it back to me

Saw you take the rap out there
I watched you take the fall
Never got to ask the question
Guess you never knew me at all
Track Name: Christmas
If I were honest I guess I'd find
Simple thoughts and a selfish mind
And on my list is underlined:
I'd like the freedom to be unkind

I'd like a girlfriend who'll never leave
Revenge on all those who gave me grief
I want salvation without belief
I want to give less than I receive

That's what I want for Christmas
That's all I want for Christmas
I'm so tired
Tired of being good

I'd like the wealth and the mind control
I want this album to steal your soul
Each tiny jealousy to get consoled
Each petty fantasy to get paroled

So wrap the gifts in lovely style
It's Christmas in just a little while
If you could go just that extra mile
Your sacrifice is what makes me smile

That's what I want for Christmas
That's all I want for Christmas
I'm so tired
Tired of being good