A song written in the style of my upcoming (hopefully) album, "Shaking Hands with Modern Man," and about a current event: the massive fall of unintentional meme/inspirational rapper Unkle Adams, who has confused boneheadedness with grinding.
I, a Nephew, only know about his from a series of YouTube videos he posted where he's trying to detail his rise to fame. He posted them as a what-not-to-do guide, but he's so naive and boneheaded that they don't even work as a what-not-to-do guide but as a thing that makes us ask "does he have to make a music video for every song?"
lyrics
Have you ever tried to be a force?
I know I have - my strings are the sword,
but without my friends and any good ideas,
the drive to create to create shan't be all you see.
I know a guy from Saskatchewan
making good money but he's bottled with songs.
He quit his job, he took out a loan,
repeated to death all those empty koans.
Blinded by the promising eyeshine,
living like tomorrow's his time.
Throwing all his money with no returns,
but those motivations for fame he yearns.
He was sure he had it all
that it'd take much more to make him fall,
but even then, nobody bought his shtick
and then he cleaned up his act for the kids.
He's origineux but he's another braggart,
stopping suicide by depicting its quirks.
He got fame, but it wasn't to his liking.
Ignoring his fans, his debts starting hiking.
Blinded by the promising eyeshine,
living like tomorrow's his time.
Throwing all his money with no returns,
but those motivations for fame he yearns.
Riding in the night to his lullabies,
wishing he could make money for groceries.
His lonely black Ford that he can't afford
blocks my door, so I climb out with Corrie.
I see his face when my friends and I
stop to get some food at the dead of night.
Bruno with his horns looks sad at the troubadour -
quarter of a mil in debt, his ego's so sore.
Spending everything on a thing that he sucks at
fills my face with rage, but I feel so sad.
The fool sits alone, wishing he were dead,
at a table at Cookout, his cup runneth red.
Blinded by the promising eyeshine,
living like tomorrow's his time.
Throwing all his money with no returns,
but those motivations for fame he yearns.
Blinded by the promising eyeshine,
living like tomorrow's his time.
Throwing all his money with no returns,
but those motivations for fame he yearns.
Flipping TVs just so he could eat
memeing like a beast and raped by his dreams
Flipping TVs just so he could eat
mode-ing like a beast and raped by his dreams.
credits
released February 13, 2018
Lyrics by Rudy Dewclaw.
Music by Rudy Dewclaw, Fiona Fennec and Bruno Lupulin.
Rudy - guitar, lead vox
Fiona - lead guitar, bass, background vox
Corrie - Rod Argent-style organ, Mellotron
Bruno - slide guitar, drums, background vox
On the other side of the portal (real credits):
Lyrics by Shane Smith.
Music by Shane Smith and Charles Kieser.
Cardiacs has finally reached Bandcamp. This is genuinely one of my favorite albums, especially with the varied compositional styles, the mixture of psychedelia and prog rock, and Timmy's lyrics. Clicker Records
Philadelphia-based Labrador make unfussy and empathetic alt-country meant to sincerely bolster the downcast in times of strife. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 5, 2023
