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Reaves EP

by The Monologue Bombs

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1.
We came from Cuyahoga, Ann Arbor, St. Paul The smell of burnt caffeine, how it clung to us all We sold our plasma, worshipped boredom Sneered for tips, deferred the loans Still we came cause it wasn’t home. Then someone snagged a Fender, someone wrote a song Borrowed mikes and broken amps fed back all night long We played for gas, we played for cases Played for handfuls nodding off Sub Pop bound (or so we thought) Spines all limber, visions clear So sure the galaxies would meet us here Pushing to the front We weren’t fooling anyone Then, one by one, we cashed it in or sobered up Slipping discs and freezing rain kept calling our bluff We tucked the merch up in the attic Walked the aisle or just stumbled off From a fire that never caught Come on, let’s kick the gravel and raise a box of wine To the days of sweet inertia whistling down the line We’ll watch these kids load in and set up Open tabs, and check their sound All that current seeking ground Room warm and crowded, see the pickguards shine By the second verse we’ll be feeling fine Good as nights of old Yeah, we will not fool a soul
2.
Fit to Burn 05:59
Somewhere back there we used to share a stage And your Ibanez would rain down fire With a deep vibrato moan Haunting every alley to its boyish bones We’d shoot tequila and punch each others’ arms And wait for Slim’s stairwell to fill Bloodshot believers down To hear us decimate this stranger-speckled town Didn’t we just howl down each horizon Weren’t we just fit to burn Scuffed up, shining like a knife fight Screaming hard into the hot mikes Fearless, streaking down the straightaway With a lifetime left to learn One night we almost caught a spark of something On the cusp of a five a.m. blue Maybe just a hopeful shadow Moving undetected between me and you But I was always a sucker for the soft lights There was a cut rate wisdom I could never see Succumbing to a flash of teeth, some raven eyes Some promise that could never come to be Trying to just howl down each horizon Weren’t we just fit to burn? Scuffed up, shining like a knife fight Leaning hard into the late nights Fearless, streaking down the straightaway With a lifetime left to learn Now I trawl deserted intersections Beneath the yellow stoplight’s sway Over a city hard with sleep Your voice breathes between the tree lines Unheeded and fading away Tonight the sky looks like one we used to call each others’ Spilling pails of color across the dawn You let it ride on a handful of gestures Or you nourish certain certainties for way too long Should we meet, wind-blown, sand-blasted With a couple fresh napkins to scribble on Madrigals of love and war But who are we gonna play them for Those kids are ghosted, gone Gone with the boyish bones in the alley Gone with the hopeful shadows Gone with your voice between the tree lines Couldn’t we just howl down each horizon Like we were fit to burn Scuffed up, shining like a knife fight Breaking down between the footlights Fearless, streaking down the straightaway With a lifetime left to learn?
3.
It’s hard to get your bearings In the shadow of the cranes These are young men’s alleys And songbirds’ claims But one faithless smile and I’ll Smite all these jokers just the same All the comrades and the sweethearts Have coupled up and flown We’ve been betting on some phantoms We’ve been starving like stones The red clang of midnight Will be here soon enough to shame us home So you fake a swagger I’ll pick my dress up off the floor You can’t clear out the wreckage If you won’t even clear the door Hear the snare drums beating So insistent, wound so tight Stranger, will you see me tonight? Once trouble was a treasure And we chased it like the wind Paraded all our damage With a flourish and a grin Our chests thrown open Just enthralled with all the sadness rushing in Now, countless autumns later And the trouble’s grave and true A mist has crept up on us Our nerves are scattered blue The store fronts blink out And we squint for just a trace of what we knew So slur me sweet nothings Just before the moonlight dies Drop it in reverse We’ll hold on for dear life And if we fall short of stunning At least we can say that we tried I’ll fake a swagger You pick your mask up off the floor We can’t clear out the wreckage If we won’t even clear the door Hear the snare drums beating So insistent, wound so tight Stranger, will you see me tonight? I got my back against the record machine I ain’t the worst that you’ve seen
4.
Cacophony on Reaves Drive, horns out in the hall Stallions twitch in the kitchen, Betty Pages play the wall There’s powder in your pocket, feel it burn, hear it call But you’re careful to keep the proper mix in Billy’s howling lonesome on a Honda Civic hood He’s sweating out the toxins and he sings so bad it’s good You shake the glitter out your hair to the pulsing of your blood Heart of Kevlar, but you’ll strain to get his fix in Lovers so convincing, got their faces in their shoes Ingrained as affectations, like the cigarettes you chew It’s whiskey in the milk, angel, you know it’s so bad for you Guitars in the stairwell as I follow Laura down She leans like Catalano, manic panic by the pound She pleads halitosis and drops me at the lost and found Jonesing for a single-serve companion So I take a run at Nikki Pale, all paint thinner and bones Pat my coat for matches, seek ascension to the throne She says, “You country boys are sweet, but so desperately prone To lupine kisses and deliberate abandon.” I bet on winks and baubles just to come and set me free Halfway to sotted silver, but damned if I can see It’s whiskey in the milk, sir, it’s gonna be the death of me We’re so blind to the abundance, duck the sun at every turn Those flashing neon portents so hard to discern Unaware as Balthazar, feasting unconcerned As that galloping sound grows ever nearer Some day these hours we trash will be hoarded and maintained The industries we’ll navigate, the progenies we’ll train We’ll outrun the low-rent habits and inherited pain Till our parents all show up in the mirror Beyond the creeping sunrise, the oracular scrawl Choke down your blood of Christ now, as the ending credits crawl It’s whiskey in the milk, friends, you know it’s gonna kill us all
5.
I first heard those skittish chords Way up on top of the twos and the fours In the millennium of our lord I was right there with them There was a party that night on the Fall Creek line Past a ratted-out couch, a smile met mine No looking back or estimating designs I was right there with them Cold birthing pure light Baffled by the heat in my hands It might be the only life So throw down the sawdust and dance A van from Hoboken is coming to town I’ll get us a sitter, we can take a cab down You invite the neighbors and we can soak in the sound We could be there with them Headlights get dimmer and muscles get tight I can’t recall when I last slept through the night It won’t beat the memories, but maybe it might Let us be there with them Let us be there with them Cold birthing pure light Baffled by the heat in our hands It might be the only life So throw down the sawdust and dance

credits

released June 3, 2022

All songs written, arranged and sung by Scott Phillips. Produced and recorded by Greg Elkins and Ryan Johnson. Recorded at Dark Pine Studios in Graham and Pershing Hill Sound in Raleigh. Guitars by Jesse Huebner. Bass by Christopher Scully-Thurston. Drums and washboard by Matt Vooris. Piano, accordion, and a little guitar by Scott Phillips. Harmony vocals on "Martin Street Revisited" by Caroline Mamoulides. Banjo on "Martin Street Revisited" and "Mercer/Million" by Hank Smith. Harmony vocals on "Reckless Stranger" by Kate Rhudy. Mandolin on "Reckless Stranger" by Robert Thornhill. Harmony vocals on "Mercer/Million" by Caitlin Cary. Fiddle on "Mercer/Million" by John Teer. Mastered by Greg Elkins. Artwork by Skillet Gilmore.

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The Monologue Bombs Raleigh, North Carolina

Solo music project of Scott David Phillips. Raleigh, North Carolina.

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