telescopes (on) parade

by sick balloons

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1.
03:12
sitting outside your bedroom door with the lights put out and feet to floor dancing halls to forty fifths wearing summer's end on your chest i would drive, two hundred thousand miles with you i would drive, two hundred thousand miles with you swimming wild in the sea of flakes you're an apologist, impenetrable grace pull the tabs from these plastic postcards to keep our memories sake i would drive two hundred thousand miles to be with you i would drive two hundred thousand miles to be with you i would drive two hundred thousand miles to be with you i would drive two hundred thousand miles to be with you this is a joke this is a toast this is a ghost this is a hoax this is a hoax this is a toast this is a joke this is a ghost
2.
dived and swam to the ends of worth held my words to undisclosed keys and stones for vagrant workers twice as many as the paper owes i saw your brother steal a glance, at, me hung all the trees and the party favors margaliese and the silent creeps straighten my teeth and comb my pride light all my burning misses i'm running cease uncertain drowning in these fountain crimes chain-smoking with apostles of charm trailing off into cold weed country steep my neighbors with incestuous talk i'm livin close to electrical lines i know the reasons we won't refrain folks are keen with their crickets and hems looking at me with monogamous eyes straighten my teeth and comb my pride turn out my labels slowly i'm running cease uncertain down cause i've been really fucking up straighten my teeth and comb my pride light all my burning dresses i'm running cease uncertain drowning in these fountain lives straighten my teeth and comb my pride turn out my labels slowly i'm running cease uncertain drowning in these fountain crimes
3.
02:07
you've got your coat and heels and cut your teeth from glass turn out the spoken wheels whoa oh ohhhh whoa oh ohhhh cut cut cut cut cut cut you wrote your number on my tongue and caught my hands in lies smoking cigs from spokane propel comedian writhes i'm a meridial (---remedial!) drum taking my cues in name scaling the challenger shun im a pentameter fray whoa oh ohhhh whoa oh ohhhh ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
4.
02:00
dirty up the band aids curry up the stitches from your fall tell me im your dry phase rearrange the fixtures and the stalls this is my surrender no recourse i'm a false apprentice no divorce ahhhhhh hurry up and practice all the makes of  lipstick and your lies drown the factory place mats celebrate the trophies and the scars this is my surrender no recourse i'm a false apprentice no divorce
5.
02:10
close the door and step into the frame i know, i know that you've been scouring you'll build an ark- hysterical and lean collect calls and favors tempt oh trend, has got the best of me stolen from the courtesy well olde friends turn to faceless agents all dolled up in leisurely slang oh what to do with us? send my regards to the misses and all of the family trade i am not an interest in your remote revelry change my oh my how things have frayed all holed up with tokens to the firing range when i said i never never never never want to see you again it was the only lie astray you're a loose confederate of blame wander trusting stall and spent failure-safe and curtain back the flame i know, i know that you've been wondering how olde friends, they fold like new design kindled form and trim retort spike the punch and designate a troubadour to wear all of your intent send my regards to the misses and all of the family trade i am not an interest in your remote revelry change
6.
01:29
we could line the walls  with perfect paragraphs still the exits are best described; manic regiments and time continuum martyrs in abraxas we are all in-tact come on babe and crumble in our canopy cascade reading minds in my leisure lay i could swallow pills til i'm pushin' daisies on a monday, monday skirt in with your mother coming down from the rafters im the panic in your pageant praise storming the pariah meant to lead in with dis-taste all the mockery you set aside  come on babe and crumble in our canopy cascade reading minds in my leisure lay i could swallow pills til im pushin daisies on a monday, monday come on see me darling i'm a mess in a party dress im addressed to your stark ends i could swallow pills til the morning after or next. 
7.
i drift in nails of titans and well regards i wish i could read lips and crash my carrrr ohhhhhhh x 4 dig all the graves you can with no impulse you're reason's wit garage insufferable
8.
all that i've got all that i've got is a rug for you x2 all the records that you know all the words you throw around all the lies that you perpetuate all that i've got all that i've got is a rug for you x 4 all the records that you know all the words you throw around all the lies that you perpetuate this old rug has been rolled up we've used every thread left you could lay your head down and go to sleep this old rug's got everything that you need all that i've got all that i've got is a rug for you x 4 all the records that you know all the words you throw around all the lies that you perpetuate this old rug has been rolled up we've used every thread left you could lay your head down and go to sleep this old rug's got everything that you need all that i've got all that i've got is a rug for you x 4
9.
Once there was a tall blonde running to the market street once or two my self in the row trembling these streets, oh why can't you see what's happening to you? why can't you see what's happening to you? i've got a million questions on your path fill me up with reservations, i just clap do you? do you? sleep until the next day sleeping on buses why don't you know
10.
01:38
got a chrome bass and a small face we're the kids shanghai'd in suburbia hanging by the threads of our wine memorizing (all the passage of time) got a slow pace and a posh space we're the kids crashed out and impervious standing in the back of the line cause you're friends are so remarkably fine and this change is gonna set us awry~ got a new grand and some trash cans we're the kids implied in perverse harmonizing every trebly kind when your mouth is an assembly line so short cased in untimely grace and i don't wanna comb my face! new york in cold december you won't pry the sleeves of pretender taking all the gloves and the grime polarizing all your Kerouac crimes two cans cull amps in the bedlam no nods to thee wed and the red one when taxis have all gone to the sun and passerby's so gently run and i don't wanna run this race! i don't wanna! i don't wanna! i don't wanna! be on standby
11.
i don't wanna be bought out i wanna ride this wave and butt out cause cigarettes go so well with coffee and company as pretty as you in that case well, maybe after breakfast we could dive in your bed and you give me a back scratch i'll do the tile in the kitchen the floors and the wall i will get electrocuted trying to fix the washing machine i take the refrigerator on my back and i'll pave the driveway 23 times i've seen her face it still gets bigger but she just stood there laughing thinking she was prettier than me! oh! trying to fix the washing machine x 3

about

BRC-07//

telescopes (on) parade is the fourth full length record from melodic fuzz freaks, sick balloons.

the album was bourne out of a desire to merge home-fi sensibilities with a cleaner polished gleam, without sacrificing any of their charm. enter Dave Matthies of Gift Machine. the fearless leader of Vista-by-way-of-Anacortes' best kept secret was courted to helm this challenge. having a like mindedness to such a musical marriage.

the result is an even greater magnified insight into the juxtaposition of the band's pop gems housed in a warm heapful of fuzz.

notably, this is the first record to feature the full band collectively and collaboratively, along with appearances from some of their north county compatriots.

from the sweeping declaration of '200,000 mi,' the Pavement-inspired 'olde friends,' to the anthem infectious 'rug,' telescopes breezes through all 11 of its tracks with ease of posture, spewing candid honesty and worn hearts on sleeves. taking pages from Pollard and Malkmus' books, as well as snarking Dino Jr-esque wailing guitar, this record is a defining moment caught on tape, for all of you to parade to.

credits

released October 20, 2016

Produced, engineered & mixed by Dave Matthies.

Initial tracking at Rarefied Recording, North Park (San Diego), CA.

Add'l recording at New Tangles, Vista, CA.

Mastered by John Golden @ Golden Mastering, Ventura, CA.

Artwork: Cee & Scott
Layout: Cee Jay

CDs manufactured by Cravedog, Portland, OR.
www.cravedog.com

Thank yous to Heather, Will, Jesse Lee, Alex, Jim, Dave & Andrea for your contributions.

© 2016 Bedroomcore

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sick balloons San Diego, California

"It sounded like pawn shop guitars, dirty fuzz, movies from the 50's, The better parts of Dinosaur Jr., Early Yo La Tengo, Sonic Youth, and drunk sex. "- Phil the Beerjesus on 'Farewell to the Swagger Kids".

'you sound like sloppy Strokes.' - some girl

'they look old. and sound like Black Sabbath.' - some random girl from new york.
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