by Jarl Q

Limited edition cassette with experimental lo-fi and pop overtones.
  • 04:58 Lyrics
    Soccer Puck

    I feel unkempt 
    Don’t want or need no cigarette 
    We’ll share one square, four corners 
    This side-your side 
    My side and theirs 
    There’s bound to be a point where we’ll break even 
    Even though I don’t know where 
    “I” is “my” friend 
    Please pass more bread 
    I’ve toasted most of what’s good 
    From the oven 
    Of au naturale appeal 
    Peel me a banana, Diana 
    Dying to be your Al 
    uh-lal, lal, lal, lal,lal, la,la,la, la, la, 
    Call me Alvis 

    It’s not in his sock 
    It’s not in my pocket, ooh 
    I just like the skunk 
    So spare me your junkie, you 

    Now, I feel up-tempo 
    In a redirect 
    We’ll fry our insides to finally 
    Have no gun 
    Held to our heads 
    Hetzl’s bringing back a pretzel bag 
    Bagged ‘specially for the Queens 
    I "bee" insect 
    Give me credit 
    I’ve tried to inscribe my thought-crimes 
    Into a card 
    That I thought you’d accept 
    Except now I can’t American Express it 
    It’s inexpressible 
    Uh-waaal, uh-waaa waaa, waaa, waal, uh-waaa waaa, uh-waaa, waaa, waal, wall 
    A wall, it's a wall, a wall 

    It’s not in my sock 
    It’s not in his pocket, ooh 
    The plumber you plucked 
    Won’t lend me a bucket, eww 

    I’m gonna steal your song 
    I’m gonna steal your vote 
    I’m gonna steal your goal (duh!) 
    I wanna steal your soul back

  • 04:18 Lyrics

    Stones, stones, stones from dinosaurus bones, 
    They put this goat 
    Inside my throat 

    Clones, clones, clones of bitter left unknowns, 
    They cloud my sea 
    So viciously 

    Home, home, home yet through the clouds still shone, 
    Or shined, or shunned 
    Whichever one 

    That’s the one 
    And whichever won 
    That’s the one 
    That’s the one 
    That’s the one 
    That’s the one 
    That’s the… 

    Moan, moan, moan, It’s all I can do b’sides zone, 
    But I don’t care 
    I’m self-aware 

    Sown, sown, sown, tethered am I can’t roam, 
    So I’m glad your face 
    Breathes outer-space 

    Snow, snow, snow, that was your favorite show, 
    Or she, or shoe… 
    A pair or two? 

    And a pair of ones 
    That’s one-one 
    And whichever won 
    That’s the one 
    That’s the one 
    That’s the one 
    That’s the one 
    That’s the… 

    Phone, phone, phone me, when you plan on going, 
    Still glad your face 
    Breathes outer-space 
    I’m glad your face 
    Breathes outer-space 
    So glad your face 
    Breathes outer-space

  • 03:35 Lyrics
    Whether Baby

    “Take a sip, because…" 
    It’s harder to sink a stone! 
    "Bring three ships, because…" 
    I hear that’s how it’s going down! 
    She licked my lips, 
    She says I "don’t want to be alone" 

    “She is a weather vane, Hiding in the sand” 
    She is a Whether Baby, She don’t give a damn 

    “Listen closely, or else I don’t think you’ll understand" 
    "Change your clothes, dear” 
    I said, Is that how you measure a man’s soul? 
    She pinched my nose, 
    She says I "don’t wanna be a ghost" 

    “She is a weather vain, Hiding in the sand” 
    She is a Whether Baby, She don’t give a damn 

    Ate that shit, because I wanted to be alone 
    Changed my clothes, and now I feel like a goddamn ghost 
    She holds me close, 
    She says I "don’t wannabe unknown" 

    And it’s hard, 
    I know 
    To be un/It’s the un, 
    But you think that it’s/Can you please get it, 
    To go 
    But it's hard, hard, hard, 
    We know 

    “She is a weather vein, Hiding in the sand” 
    She is our Whether Baby, She don’t give a damn 

    “She is a weather vane, Hiding in the sand” 
    She‘s our own whether baby, she don’t give a damn

Jarl Sonkin- guitar, vocals, harmonica, percussion
Rob Wintour- guitar, vocals, percussion
Alex Goldman- backing vocals, percussion

Produced by Alex Goldman at Hargrave Haus.