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Such a Mell of a Hess

by Hot Liquids Burn Like Fire

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1.
Ritalin Helps Sometimes 02:16
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You dyed your hair But I stayed quiet I should try it My temples are graying You dyed your hair What were you saying? I can’t focus With this ADD Or ADHD, gee Where’s the waiter? I can’t focus I will regret it later Don’t leave on a sour note I’m betting bitter is better On the back of the throat I just can’t pay attention Everything moves so slowly Ritalin helps sometimes Kabuki make up Drag queen camouflage This isn’t La Cage, Or 1986 Kabuki make up Self-esteem tricks Don’t leave on a sour note I’m betting bitter is better On the back of the throat Internal thoughts May come spitting out Flitting about and Otherwise a nuisance Internal thoughts Are not worth two cents Don’t leave on a sour note I’m betting bitter is better On the back of the throat I just can’t pay attention Everything moves so slowly Ritalin helps sometimes
2.
So This is What You Want? 01:00
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Feeling kind of queasy here behind the restaurant You had both elbows on the table Manners dear, manners dear You spoke; I was distracted by your manners dear This is not the goal for you and this is not the goal for me But this is how it’s gonna be Wow, this miscast role for you Has taken such a toll on me Apparently, apparently I’m feeling sick I’m feeling gaunt So this is what you want? This is what you want I get up off the pavement I hear a children’s taunt Something about ghosts and the spaces that they haunt I think about metaphors I think about woes I think about suffering and your awful elbows This is not the goal for you and this is not the goal for me But this is how it’s gonna be Wow, this miscast role for you Has taken such a toll on me Apparently, apparently I’m feeling sick I’m feeling gaunt So this is what you want?
3.
Every Generation Asphyxiates on Love Song 02:02
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Thank God for our love even though you know that there's no God, no love, no gratitude it's a platitude lyrics like this appeal to masses the hordes in junior college classes borrowed thoughts - semi-stolen struggling with a semicolon Every generation fixates on love song every generation asphyxiates on love song gagging and choking on idealized make believe every generation fixates on love song every generation asphyxiates on love song You've got to win her heart even though you know that there is no heart, no winning, just a bitter feud then solitude which is really not that bad we've been had pop songs call it trauma ditto musical drama it's a period not a comma Every generation fixates on love song every generation asphyxiates on love song gagging and choking on idealized make believe every generation fixates on love song every generation asphyxiates on love song Thank God for our love even though you know that there's no God even though you know that there's no love even though you know that there's no gratitude
4.
Fiction of Affection 02:26
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This fiction of affection Viagra erection best seller, for years now The glib way we can speak about experiences which are not our own best seller, for years now This distraction of destruction, lowest bid construction It’s a bust cellar, for years now saline bags, implantation boy's heads in rotation breast seller, for years now This distraction of destruction, lowest bid construction bust cellar, for years now this curation of creation greatest hits compilation
5.
This Will Be Hell 02:56
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This tastes like sweat though I know it is not I never sweat viscous like snot Deeply formed lines this furrowed brow a map of defeat measured in crow's feet This won't be tough this won't be hard in fact this will turn out well who are we fooling? This will be hell Sometimes you drink sometimes bar tend I was quite good on either end Sometimes I use other times I deal once I declined but then I changed my mind This won't be tough this won't be hard in fact this will turn out well who are we fooling? This will be... Hell, its getting late and I am dying here. It s getting late, and I am dying here What's with these moods that shift and shift? steady descent, seldom a lift Lethargy trumps any goodwill "One giant leap," fuck it, let me sleep This won't be tough this won't be hard in fact this will turn out well who are we fooling? This will be hell Combing my hair is now a chore cowlicks in gray withstanding gel and spray Hell, its getting late and I am dying here. It s getting late, and I am dying here
6.
St. Bernard and The Avalanche 03:52
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She was loath to call me Mr. Good Time Charlie And kind to avoid Enabler Despite a predilection for all things barley Like Hemmingway, only stabler So she knew me as St. Bernard Which had charm, class and wit But these things never last for long, unlike Play dead, roll over, sit With time the bond weathered/ She felt most free when Running the emotional gamut She and reality were untethered When she took a devotional gambit She seemed to be an avalanche An analogy that fit Swallowing all as you fall, unlike Play dead, roll over, sit Now there are no pet names Or even pets to name No Charlies Or time, no good Now there are no pet names St. Bernard and the Avalanche Are not the same Replaced by bone, Water and wood So she knew me as St. Bernard Which had charm, class and wit But these things never last for long, unlike Play dead, roll over, sit

about

I heard no punk music in London this summer. At least I don't think I did. In fact, I didn't even think about punk music. At least I don't think I did. I thought about crowds, being lost and currency conversion rates, mostly.
But when I got home, I thought about punk music in London.

I downloaded a generic punk compilation and that let to Buzzcocks' Singles Going Steady. That led to this. Having overlooked (or should I say having looked down upon) punk in the past, this was a revelation (or should I say reevaluation?) Besides, I'm not picky, I'll prune inspiration from where I can.

Challenges, as they're wont to do, quickly found me. I struggled getting this collection together. The lyrics were difficult to coax and there were myriad production poltergeist haunting the mixes. The music came easily however which was mostly satisfying. Moreover, it turns out that I have more perseverance than I thought, I should put that stuff to good use. Maybe someday.

Along the way, I had the good fortune to stumble into interesting, generous and fertile collaborators. They are the very best parts of this EP, thanks all.

Because this was so difficult for me to put together, I am resigned to finding new ways to create and capture songs in the future. I am fairly certain that this will be my last album to sound like this. It is time to unfasten the safety pins, fell the Mohawk and wear corduroy. But I'm keeping the Doc Martens.

credits

released January 1, 2015

All Music and Lyrics: Elliott Marx

except
St. Bernard and The Avalanche (Music: Oscar Fuentes, Lyrics: Elliott Marx)

Artwork: Viser1000

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Hot Liquids Burn Like Fire Los Angeles, California

Counterpoint by avocation.

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