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The Winesburg Eagle

by Wildlives

supported by
Collin Dall
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Collin Dall Some of my best friends had a hand in making this incredible, incredible record and it means so much to me that it was finally released to such acclaim after all of their hard work. Favorite track: Paper Pills.
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1.
dusk creeps in on our house. wolves creep in through the front door, left ajar. take the kids out to the car. these bones are hunted, with a thousand tiny scars. this place is haunted. kids dug up where the bridge is out, with wrinkles in their skin. the lake was salty. their bones were crunchy. their growth was stunted by cups of coffee. this place is haunted. necks torn up with bite marks and stained with iodine - i became a vampire. what have you become (when you've joined the hunted)? now, this has just begun - this place is haunted. this place is haunted.
2.
Paper Pills 02:45
they clamped their lips around a gnarled root (their tongues tasting sweet and sugar, up to eighty proof). in an orchard. out of season. in the winter, he read notes to her his pockets hid. sketch his thoughts on scrap, then fold them up, then tuck them in for the season. all with sound reason. this is to remind you. she'd expressed her discomfort over the jeweler's son - his jaw agape (the stale taste; the dripping drool and blood). it wasn't over. he became colder. he'd bite her shoulder. he'd say, 'this is to remind you, you abstracted, old fool'. his handsome hands which once pulled nail from foot and tooth from teeth, now only pawing at the thoughts he'd left just beneath the surface. he'd tip back his thermos and toss them in the furnace. he'd say, 'that is to confound you, you blathering, old, sentimental fool!'
3.
three crosses on interstates were all that was left of this place. old county, like a car in a ditch. wood crosses; that's about it. these back roads now covered in snow. our houses all buried below. dug tunnels to try and make it back home. these backseats now brimming with ghosts. steeples and chimneys now just mailboxes high. short, stone hands pointed at the sky. gates clanking - we're trying to climb. built snow piles to help us inside. saint peter will surely wave us all through. three crosses, all looking at you.
4.
train to nowhere: save a seat. i've saved for weeks (saved for weeks); i think i'm going where yr going. (far away, by grace of god). close, but not. smile a lot. you don't belong here. walk to everything you'd need. a silent place where you can sleep. sing yr prayers all day-by-day. sing for hate. sing for states of disappointment. scan for clips and signs of splice. no one's voice is quite as nice (or quite the same there). bricks for windows, peeking through. hip milwaukee avenue.
5.
Pekar 04:58
all polished off on what she said. white wine; some time we spent. onward and off-beat steps. pack yr hopes in the car; wait a day and hope that you won't stay. pray for a clean escape. cheeks red, i'll leave it all behind. no trains; no subway lines. southbound and sauced in time. you wake up at fifty-eighth (or sixty-eighth), and maybe that's okay. live for the smallest change. spots on the glass like tremont at night. our hands on shaker heights. hips cracking sheets of ice. and yr heart's racing 'round the clock, but then it's not. maybe that's what cleveland does to folks like us. yr on the bus and, the next day, yr heart stops. and even you don't notice. the paper came today. i know yr hunting for the page that had our names. but: i'm not sorry for leaving. i'm not sorry for anything. it was years in the making - old scraps of burlap. our skin becomes a roadmap. don't follow me. the highway swallowed me. don't follow me. the highway swallowed me. i'll change. i'll leave it all behind.
6.
All Icons 03:48
pound the walls and floor and call me - halfway gone, if you do at all. prospect, south to the ocean's mouth. was it figured out? were you there somehow? a new page for every one you liked. so close to keep it there at night. all torn up. my hands drip blood. my coffee cup half-filled with mud. gasp like glass - you double back. you halfway act as though it's fact, with no more direction than before. drive eight hours out, just looking for a little something, a little more, but there's just highway. halfway to cleveland by the time you see it my way. prospect south - have they figured out why yr knees are brown? say its name aloud. if something's left, i can't detect. it's not respect. let's not forget. what have we taken from this year? a working knowledge of doubt and fear. and if you want, you disappear, and i'm not angry. gold wire and scans of magazines from nineteen-eighty. proverbs are nice, but they won't save me. all icons, blaring at the wall. half-understood, but not at all. these things have taken over lately.
7.
i saw you wrapped up, wrapped up in plastic. you left me speechless at the sheriff's office. yr face in the camera - i'm a reflection. yr voice in the playback - it's my hand on the button. and when i see you again, will i know you? when you appear (right out of the air) with yr hair a different color - yr senses that much duller - don't think yr fooling anyone. o and you must have split - o did you - split yr soul in two, and left me to bury my little corner of it. o and it's catching. yr name is a fire. yr twin is the tinder; i fan the flames up higher. see? you haven't gone so far. smiling, you press play on yr vcr. now that you've found yr way back home, yr different, but you've been different all along. save for the big things, nothing's wrong. smiles back through the glass, some brash interviewer: 'no need to panic, kid; you hardly knew her'.
8.
Hands 05:26
feet stamped on the toilet seat - i'm hoping that no-one sees that i'm bleeding. chairs, smelling like old cigars. couches sunk in too far to sleep in. white light through the red lampshade - shine on the rules we made. can you see them? saved letters from years ago. i know that our friends all know, but do we need them? wrecked hands all wrapped up, the color of rust. fumble through the dark as our eyes adjust. if it's true that, out there, the whole world moves, there's a thousand kids like you with nothing to prove. i'll be leaving the light on. tight chicken skin, glazed and dried, under the island light, when you got home last night. three-thirty and it must be a hundred and five degrees (with no end in sight). damp clothes fermenting in the sun. wait out the light 'til the evening comes. if it's true that, out there, the whole world moves, there's a thousand kids like you with nothing to lose. i'll be leaving the light on. 'cause i will love you for miles (will love you for seasons), but i won't love you for nothing. if it's true that, out there, the whole world moves, there's a thousand kids like you in houses like tombs. i'll be leaving the light on.
9.
Barn Owl 02:02
mmmmm-mmmm-mmmmmmm.
10.
stops pulled out because no-one's thinking. seething, smiling at the lens. while ashes cake and metal flakes, we just watch in awe. where that leaves us, it depends. 'cause we're up all night. cars passing flash their brights. the hardbacks so fast ignite and, burning white, are swallowed. jars of gauze and rotting apples. yr arms torn up the morning after. disappear; don't let me find you. god forbid should i surprise you. through body aches and harsh talks to scare you straight, 'it takes months to make a change, but only days to tell it different.' 'cause it's easy work (all night, so i might learn). i'll leave you there, in turn, and burn every reminder. it happened when you dressed down to play pretend. white tape to mark the ends. yr awful friends all cheering. all icons blaring on repeat and burning up under the heat. when it's time to pay for our mistakes, you know you'll likely owe me (owe me). down at astor place, with bite marks you just can't fake. sink in, ignore the taste, in case we won't believe it. when the lights come up (and play back the things you've done), wave 'bye' to all of us. we'll all be gone. we'll all be gone. we may be bottomed-out from bottoms-up singing some day. it could be miles and miles and bones all wrapped with tape. if we get dragged in, on all-fours, through some old apartment doors, we'll be glad we live in separate cities. i was embarrassed that i even came to be lumped in with someone so weak and insane. feeling it out as though i didn't know - smile as though i had been thrown. but then when we're finally walking division street, you say what you came to say to me. at this hour, it's hard to wonder where you are. good intentions never got me very far. when it's late, i hate to wonder what you'll do, 'cause if yr looking for good faith, i've got nothing for you. i may be cracking, but i'm not quite flat-dead broke. i may be blowing kisses through rings of cigarette smoke. if we get dragged in, one-by-one, all before the night is done, i'll - alone - atone for nights this shitty. was it the boys in blue? how many talkings-to? yr carrying on like neighbors do. at this hour, i try to wonder where you are. good intentions never got me very far. when it's late, i hate to wonder what you'll do, 'cause if yr looking for good faith, i've got nothing for you.
11.
Great Fire 04:32
slept off the gold rush. we shipped out, bound for coasts. ash of chicago, stuffed in our coats. we filled our pockets and tossed it out to sea. wind takes our city, cast off as seeds. great fire, swallowed by highway signs. wide-eyed, wandering love of mine. blinded by subway light, over the great divide. great fire. o lord, ohio: they left me in the rain. o ancient county: i pray you've stayed the same, ohio, through wolves and freezing rain. by grace, will i go so far away. run on home; home to me.

credits

released September 3, 2014

in order of appearance:
---
miranda amey - vocals, claps
mike fox - guitar, violin, vocals, trumpet, saw
ian kropp - vocals
will myers - guitar
matt ciani - vocals, guitar, clarinet, piano, claps, wurlitzer, bass
nico ciani - drums, claps/percussion, vocals
rachel rustemeyer - vocals
ian bojalad - piano, wurlitzer
noah wood - saxophone
danny darvish - trumpet
nate benson - vocals
andy lowe - vocals, enthusiasm

no small amusement and pekar were co-written with annick dall.
background vocals by the ghostly ghost quartet.

special thanks to the benson family for all the stuff we recorded in your barn, and the food, and letting us have our parties and shows at your house, and being generally great. sorry that will and mike never fixed your lawn after will's car got stuck two decembers ago.

also thanks to the folks at plantain (on whose wurlitzer several of these songs were written) for the borderline unsafe amounts of coffee and knowledge you gave me.

album cover design by nico ciani.
album cover photo by cameron crosby.

recorded by matt and mike @ the septic jukebox.
mixed by matt, mike, and will.
mastered by matt dewine @ pieholden studios.

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Wildlives Cleveland, Ohio

wildlives are a five-piece band from cleveland, ohio. we have been working together for six years. we have written and recorded seven albums and e.p.s. the most recent one is a record called "the winesburg eagle", which will be released in august of 2014.

when we play live, matt plays the bass and sings, nico plays the drums, will and mike play guitar, and ian plays the piano.
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