Wild's End

by typesetter

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about

Buy "Wild's End" by Typesetter digitally at:
blacknumbers.bandcamp.com

Buy "Wild's End" LPs at:
blacknumbers.nosleeprecords.com/product/7337/wilds-end

Pressing Info:
100 Deep Red
150 Light Blue
250 Clear w/ Black Swirl
30 Test Press

credits

released 14 October 2014

Mix Engineer - Jeff Dean
Mastering Engineer - Jon Drew
Art - Heather Hannoura
Layout - Dave Frenson

Typesetter would to thank some people and some cats.

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Track Name: Obvious Imperfections
No, this isn’t where the line for morals begins. I have obvious imperfections. The sun has been setting all day and I’m completely incapable of anything. The only piece of jewelry I own zipped up to my chin. It dangles like your hope for salvation, but I only want to get warm. The worst fucking time of year, when everything is covered in dirty snow and jaded reasons for living. I think that you’re only in love because you’re cold. I understand that you don’t want to be alone but I don’t share the sentiment. I’ve been questioning everything, from the roots that start on your head and grow down to your knees; the social constructs we’ve inherited, the things we’ll never break; I let my flag of flaws fly and cast a broad shadow; maybe it will all get better when we make it to wild’s end. Can’t you understand that I just want to be alone?
Track Name: Cut Teeth
Considering the context, the dirty sheets and the stained mattress and bribing sleep when it wouldn’t come, how I held my breath and I took my fucking chances. I don’t believe in fate but this had to happen. Considering the outcome; shaken men who know what they’re made of, who met the edge and returned but never really returned, for better or for worse. I wouldn’t go back. I prefer my memories untarnished. An awareness of the gravity is enough for me; perhaps that’s cowardice. We’ve no fate to squander, no great purpose or hell to pay. You’ll cut your teeth here too or learn to live with it either way.
Track Name: Lapsed Asshole
Take what you want and push it away. There never has been any such thing as better days. The myths that we’ve inherited are broken templates for normalcy and happiness, whatever that is. I’ll have no fucking part of it. So looking back you don’t like what you see? No worries, we’ve all logged a few miles down on our knees. So you’re transcending the hyperbole? Slogans beget community? Oh please, don’t bullshit me, Pharisee. All false idols are felled and forgot eventually. All privilege finds itself accountable to history. Wrought from shame, brought to blame - a collective sigh, “oh, what were we thinking?” You’re a shudder in an otherwise improving tale; a coffin nail. There’s no such thing as better days.
Track Name: Summer Storms
My senses for seasons are skewed. I’m a letter in the mail that will never arrive. How did I do at getting out of this? At seeming confident? A constant search for validation. You’re the only one. The summer storm. I am tattered, finally open, a never ending novel. I’m a million little pieces on the floor of a house that you don’t live in anymore.
Track Name: TFW
Somewhere along the line I lost all motivation to try. I only feel bad for myself and so I drag everyone down with me. I can’t handle the weight of the day to day. Then the nights get wild. I can’t afford the minimum but I pay it anyways. The nights get wild. I can’t afford the cab but I take it anyways. The days get dark. I can’t even remember the last thing I remember. I’m no stranger to sorrow, no guest to guilt. I won’t feel better tomorrow. Just a strange sense of complacency that drags me along anxiously, far away from anywhere that I thought I would ever want to be.
Track Name: Sunday Best
You fell in love with my Sunday best. I knew you would, that’s why I got dressed. For better or best or for petulance, whichever parable you choose to test. You fell in love with my Sunday best, a bait-and-switch of my architect. No ill will or childish jest, but you’re right, I knew how this might end. How spoiled this soul, this heart a mess. But it was never really yours to wreck. We’ll carry on, we’ll find what’s next. We clean up well in our Sunday best.
Track Name: Flood of 93
Exit only lifestyle, strip malls and fluorescents. Simpler times yield simpler problems, missing teeth and phantom limbs. Do you sleep well at night with the hum of transistors and artificial light, with the whir and the lifeless drone? Welcome home. Where the bed’s not made to circumnavigate. Where the floors don’t swell. The garbage won’t take out itself. Shit got real this time. Show me yours, I’ll show you mine til I’m choking. Common courtesy to dictate how I hide my vice away. Don’t think me weak - we’re all cowards in different ways. So maybe all the cold sweat and choking fear’s not right. You live with yours, don’t fucking take away what’s mine. Exit only lifestyle. Simpler times yield simpler problems.
Track Name: Inbetweens
I’ve been getting the signals all wrong. Don’t kill the dream, you’re nothing but an inbetween. I guess I could get drunk forever, look up at the stars and talk or whatever. It’s been this way before. This is the last time? There wasn’t even a first time. So, next time I’ll keep my tongue to myself. “Maybe I will see you later?” Don’t expect anything because that’s how you end up with nothing. When everyday’s the same how do you rearrange? Or recreate the brighter parts instead? Emotional peace keeper, how do you keep your dignity? How do you stand so proudly?
Track Name: Settling
For want of another, it’s fucking gunning for you. It’s ancient history but we’re fucking learning from it. Don’t wanna think about it. Something’s wrong, I think it’s settling in. But I still think about it, always wanting another. Back in a different life I used to know to some form of happiness. A lust that I’ve forgotten. It’s settling like a freight train over, it’s settling in like a bullet to the head.
Track Name: Nietzsche in Florida
I need five days for trials and segues, down ten thousand highways. In the darkness I will find out who I really am. Even when I change my clothes and cut my hair, I’ll still always be alive and dead. The best and worst person I’ve ever known. We don’t belong here anymore. We could have moved mountains, we could have been something.
Track Name: So What's Your Future
It takes unruly candor to helm this disposition, but so what. The ceiling, old friend, stares back. Was that courage I just daydreamt? Well so what. So much for bravery, misunderstood. And then it came to me. I knew it would. We could’ve moved mountains. We could’ve been something. But so what. In cold, still even weeds grow. I fear that’s a strength I’ll never know. But so what. So much for bravery, misunderstood. But then it came to me, I knew it would. So much free energy. Numb to the buzz, that’s tolerance built up good. And then you came to me, I knew you would. A quiet victory, but we’ll take what we can get. You’ll get the best of me, if only for a moment.
Track Name: Wild's End
You should’ve seen your face. You looked like you’d seen a ghost or at least someone you used to know. And age has eroded my face. Scars insist that experience is just something you learn to live with; live with this. So - claim staked, a hiding place to lay and wait awake at night. This lot in life is blanketed in fiction. I’ll wait for false security to fade. You said that you believe in love, well I believe in chemicals. It’s not cynical if it’s factual. No need to name names, we all share a little blame. It’s never ending, a novel out of place just waiting for the days of brighter grays. I guess I’ll sleep at wild’s end. You should’ve seen your face.