S​/​T

by !ATTENTION!

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Released by*:

Struggletown Records (UK) - Struggletown.co.uk
Coffee Doped Records (EU) - coffeedopedrecords.bandcamp.com
My Fingers! My Brain! Records (CA) - myfingersmybrain.com
Tour Van Records (USA) - tourvanrecords.storenvy.com
Must Be Nice Records (CA) - mustbenicerecords.bandcamp.com

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Recorded by Nathan Richards in February, 2014 live off the floor in our practice space in Toronto, Ontario.

Mixed by Nathan Richards in Vancouver, BC.

Additional recording by Mark Dolmont at Noise West in Vancouver, BC.

Mastered by Alan Douches at West West Side Music, Inc. in New Windsor, NY

Artwork by Jamie Ashforth

credits

released September 1, 2016

Glenn Barrington - Vocals
Nathan Richards - Guitar, Vocals
Jono Hunter - Guitar, Vocals
Scott Pasko - Drums
Mat Morand - Bass

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!ATTENTION! Toronto, Ontario

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Track Name: Take the Long Way Home
So I’ll bite the inside of my mouth, repress this feeling in my chest. Sit up straight on this wooden bench while an old lady plays an out of tune organ, gasping for its last breath.

To the living and the dead: We are burdened by the things that we have done and the things we have not. We remember our broken promises and missed opportunities.

The Love we have taken for granted—the love that we have not returned. Unfortunate circumstances, road trips we’ve always missed. So I’ll take another picture of my hometown through the window of a moving car.
Track Name: When Good People Make Babies
It's this loss of hearing that I needed sorted out. Not sounds or frequencies, just the sound advice you’re giving me. And you'll ask, "What do your friends do? Grown up stuff?" Don’t your friends do grown up stuff too?

Some friends are making babies, you know to me that’s crazy. One day you’ll say "let's get a dog!"—Starts me thinking second job. And I assume, that I don't have the patience; another loser grown man, an eighth grade promise made to myself.

I know I'm going crazy trying to keep it sorted out. Now I'm thinking daily “How can I deal with this doubts?”

Someday I'll have to give it up and put it on a shelf. Be a crusty old dude in a faded Gob shirt—In the diaper isle helping myself. But I don't think that's me right now. So instead I'm going to sit sideways, watch the world go by with these four guys on an endless drive.
Track Name: Have I Taken My Meds Today?
She's just standing there trying every key in the door. If only she could only figure it out… It's never been a problem before.
"Ask me how my week was" she said, review of notes scribbled out on a journal page left by the phone. Beyond her reflection in the window, she gazes over the view below. The deepest depths of the ocean. The feeling in the pit of her stomach; an unsure worry like never before.
The sound of clicking knitting needles down the hallway, a ball of yarn stretched out across the floor. Every row reminders of days gone by, another week deeper into the storm.
This is where they were meant to retire, grow old, remember it all. As she stands by the window at the top of the stairs one last time.
The best view from the house; a final snapshot locked away deep inside her mind.
Track Name: The Unwitting Bastard Sons of Stompin Tom Connors
As I adjust my mirror and drive away; memories of the things I left behind linger in my mind, as I lose track of days and I'll long to hear them say: "We'll support you with everything you do, we'll see you're stronger every day." Transfer of crumpled cash packed in a sturdy handshake; you’re proud of me.

When the night comes I pedal my wares; fill my lungs, and empty my head. But you're not listening at all. And I'll rust these steel strings, with the sweat that's soaked into my clothes.

Will this be another night where I break the awkward silence with more awkward things to say? Will the awkward conversations amid the scattered applause fill the empty space?

Seems like everybody’s breaking out. I’m only ever breaking down, filling headline spots and I'm left driving in the rain. Never make it out. These days I'm feeling anxious when I’m standing in one place. Another Night, Another Night, Another Year, Another Year. Another long day on the road.

I'll sleep when I'm dead or so the saying goes. And I’ll learn from my mistakes. And so I’ll sing!

When I die bottle my ashes and send them out to sea. Only then will I, will I truly be free. Free from all the writes I've wronged, free from all the songs I wrote, free from all the words that I spoke.
Track Name: Broseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dream Couch
Fuck me, I’m still at home watching TV, I should be out, off the couch. When I was young I’d be outside climbing trees, I wasn’t allowed to stay inside. Fuck no, get out!

Me and this old couch have been to so many places—the whole world right in front of me. From where I sit I think about it and wonder ‘is there anything out there for me?’

So many rules that we’re expected to abide by—Not that anybody follows—But I’ll never get to see it for myself unless I get my shit together and finally realize what’s been here all along.

And so I’ll try to do my best, step out of this mess; use my brain when I eat, hit the streets, cut the stress, no sweat.
Track Name: Worn Out Words to Live By
If this amounts to nothing and it just falls apart. Reach for the phone, skip the dial tone; straight from the heart. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder. Is that what this feeling is? A Twenty hour drive divided by provincial lines; I’ll take what I can get.

Maybe in time, I’ll find my own words to live by. For now I’m minding yours. Trouble is I’ve worn them oh so thin. I’ll have to mend the ones I’ve broken; another lesson learned.

You’ll learn so much from living life. You thought you’d never know. For the first time in my life, the words have never been so clear.
Track Name: The Salt in My Bones
Long distance sighs through telephone lines; long distance pride through mother’s eyes. Longing to lay down in the tides, let the slow heavy hand of the seaside calm my mind.

It’s hard to appreciate what you’re really looking at until you’ve spent some time away. The cold dark shores on a winter’s night; the burning light on a summer’s day.

In a place where some people can’t get away, some people just can’t get away fast enough. But we always find ourselves talking about the same thing. Oh those days—all those times—in that place… It could never feel the same way.

I hate to say, “Never the same way.”
Track Name: Basements Part II
While you were MVP at make out point, I was jerkin' it and playing drums in my parents’ basement, honing my skills. Now I'm doing it in Smalltown, Nowhere. Here's a 57 can you pull it off? More monitors!?

This isn't whining, I'm genuinely pissed. Because I still have faith in this two faced scene that changed my life. And mine, and mine. I feel more at home in your leaky basement then on stage at some bar, so load the gear down the stairs already and start the show.

If you need me I'll be in the basement... FUCK.
Track Name: Writing Letters
And now I’m running out of paper, my pen has run dry. Single-spaced and double-sided, tip me over pour my thoughts out.

And I can still feel the apple tree beneath me, above a car on blocks in your side yard. Whether roaming the graveyard or picking berries, I can hear you calling out my name.

Dead-end street where we always played. Take a walk along the shore, always skipping rocks. They say, “You’ll always remember these days.” Scratch my head, because I never thought such little things would someday be so huge to me.

All the things I never said. Wrap my arms around you so tight, never letting go. Last time, we said goodbye. And as I drive away, you’ll be waving from the front door. And I’ll sign “with love” as the tears roll down my face.
Track Name: Partners In What If
Sometimes I can sit on the front steps for hours and think. Warm breeze rolls over me, enjoy a drink and a long distance call out east. Life swallows us whole; we’ll be fine, you’ll see.

If only I was young again, And I’m running through the backyard yelling. If I could turn back time till then. She’s calling my name out the backdoor. All those things our parents said, and I’ll call back “I’m coming” We’ll mourn our childhoods; procrastinate for the future.

We’re scraping by with small change; saving nickels and dimes. Collecting letters to build a word to describe our aimless cartography. Map a plan and book a flight.

Until the days when our biggest fears won’t hold us back. First we’ll drain the seas and then we’re laying track. Every time I stand still I’m feeling anxious. Calm myself down, frantically flip calendar pages. Sometimes I don’t know what I’m wishing for. Pick an eyelash off your face, blow it away and wish for more. Sometimes I can sit on the front steps.
Track Name: Where Tall Trees Grow in Shallow Water
What goes up must come down; when it does, it’ll be on your head. Walk around with your chest puffed out—you’re so dramatic. Fall to your knees in this mess no doubt—you’re so dramatic.

“Ladies and Gentleman, here is your future” A tall man in a cheap suit proclaims. And you think to yourself “Where will I put all my things?” You won’t need anything where you’re going.
Trust me.

We don’t mend, don’t make do. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue—traditions we view as outdated and passé. Create, consume, destroy; crumple up and throw away. A reflection in the sky of the world below we took for granted.
Track Name: All the Things I'll Never Forget
We were just three best friends—small town, east coast, suburban basement—standing instruments in hand without a clue. But if we only knew what to some of us this would do. Fifteen years just passed us by, we still don’t have a clue.

Please don’t fret, I won’t bore you with the same old shit, just another searching soul wading through the thick. When I close my eyes, I can think back to the first day. When I learned of it, and I could be a part of it—everything, all these years. But when I reflect upon these days, they’ll be known as experience.
Track Name: Lesser-Known Stories
Sometimes it feels like I’ve frozen time; Focused on the space between. As I run these events through my mind, it all seems so surreal. Another one of those lesser-known stories.

In a flash, take a trip back through my past. Rub your eyes, you watch too much TV. That car, this hour, this house, it must be someone else; oblivious to what I’ve seen.

Word travels fast in a town waiting for the time to pass. All the stories that you have left to tell to anyone who will stop and listen. All that’s left is to sit and wait, run routine, mark the date. Until the last one who knows your story passes on. Then, what are we left with?

A generation of young professionals; experts on failed marriages of the nineties. And I catch myself staring off thinking, ‘When you’re dead and gone…’ I’m speechless.