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about

This song started life as a demo with just the pulsewave instrument you hear in the intro, Clap Machine to keep the beat, my bass, and my vocals.

I guess that was around late Summer or early Fall of 2016. Feeling uninspired, but vehemently determined to get back into songwriting, I resolved to write a song that would capture precisely how I was feeling, and found myself in the oxymoronic position of being inspired to do so. So, on a trip to Cincinnati; visiting our friend Ricky Henry, the illustrator who drew the album art for Bremelanotide, MC Horse, Bioavailable, and our Patreon banner, as well as the album art for all versions of Songs From The Pit; I paced around the downtown area, singing the lyrics and melody into my phone, as they came to me. I hadn't written much in a while, so it was exciting. Yet, after the second verse/chorus iteration, I hit a brick wall. Didn't know what to do with the song, so I shelved it, and didn't bring it out of storage until nearly a year later, when The Grammar Club reformed.

Always on point, Beefy grabbed my demo from the Google Drive directory we'd been feverishly swapping files to and from, and laid down a phenomenal rap break over the instrumental I'd been using for the chorus. That was dope, but we needed a new instrumental section to put under Beefy's raps, to prevent a feel of redundancy. Enter Tanner and Glenn, who, due to what I'd describe as either poor communication or a scheduling conflict, each produced an instrumental section intended to lay under Beefy's part. I loved each section, as did everyone in the group, I believe; but, they were mutual exclusives. Logistically, we could only use one; Ty attempted to combine the two into a single instrumental section, but they proved too disparate for even his skill as an arranger to reconcile.
A quandary.

Days passed while the group mulled it over, until Tanner said he preferred Glenn's original instrumental section under Beefy's part, and I agreed. Tanner and Glenn's instrumental parts fit well into the song, individually, but didn't jive when conflated into a single section. At this point, I realized the song would mimic the structure of Bank Holiday exactly, if we added a Glenn Case outro, so I proposed having Glenn write a vocal intro over the section Tanner had composed for Beefy to rap on; and Glenn, of course, killed it. In addition to adding an outro, he sweetened the rest of the song, adding beautiful background vocals that I now find vital to the choruses, and other flourishes that keep the song interesting the whole way through.

With all the parts created, and a blueprint in mind, it was time for Ty to massage a bunch of unlike ingredients into a cohesive unit, which he did. He's Ty. That's his power. He recorded guitar, programmed drums, fit all of our synth parts together and added his own. Then he mixed it, and sent it to Tanner for mastering. Here it is! I'm super happy, on behalf of the new Grammar Club, to present it to you.

From all of us in the collective, thank you. We couldn't do this without your support, and I hope this is the first of many new songs we share.

Your friend,
-Shael

lyrics

Twenty-four hours is too many hours to fill
I could go get a job, but that makes the time seem longer
Where are my options and where are my obligations?
My attention span wilts,
oh, my attention span wilts.

I am waiting to die, like my father
in exactly the same way my father did
I am waiting to die, waiting to waiting to die

It's important that I feel important
I am going all night about politics
I am waiting to die, waiting to, waiting to die

Seventy-eight years is too many years to keep still
I try moving forward, but what that entails is a matter of some controversy

So sick of the circle, so sick of centrifugal spinning
I'm repeating myself, oh my attention span wilts

I am waiting to die like my father, in a world for which I was just not designed
I am waiting to die, waiting to, waiting to die

I eat cheese sticks and smoke marijuana
I need amphetamines to feel anything
I am waiting to die. Waiting to, waiting to die.

Well, they say pick yourself up when you're living at the bottom
If I could do that I don't think that I would have this problem
At least the calendar's getting thinner
Crushed black pepper on your microwave dinner
When not distracted by hunger
Every ideas just a one hit wonder
Each thought on the can just a flash in the pan
Wanna change the world but I don't think I can
be a cynic cause I know it's not me
Feel it still burn till the tanks on empty
Punish my body what I put inside me
Daring the devil, you know where to find me
Could it get worse? I bet we'll find out
This a bad patch? Or is this my life now?
Pine for the life that we can't afford
And in the meantime, I'm so damn bored
Big deal in another wheel. Hey!
Alright, I’ll be back tomorrow.
Big day in another landfill
My head with an endless sorrow
Waiting to die, waiting to waiting to die

I eat cheese sticks and smoke marijuana
I need amphetamines to feel anything
I am waiting to die. Waiting to, waiting to die.

I’m waiting to die and I don’t know if things will improve
I’m waiting to die and the clock on the wall doesn’t move
I’m waiting to die and it’s all just a matter of time
I’m waiting to die. As the walls burn, I say “this is fine.”

credits

from Live Slow. Die Whenever., released August 5, 2018
Beefy: vocals, lyrics
Glenn: vocals, lyrics, composition, guitar, bass, additional arrangement
Shael: vocals, original demo, composition, lyrics, bass, additional arrangement
Tanner: composition, additional arrangement, mastering
Ty: primary arrangement, production, guitar, mixing

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The Grammar Club New York, New York

Above art by Hex (zombiehiphophex.deviantart.com)

Album art by Ricky Henry and Joe Dunn

Additional site art by Art League Houston

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