Kiss with Spit 7"

by Dangers

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credits

released September 16, 2016

Recorded by Jack Shirley at the Atomic Garden Summer 2015. Kiss with Spit also appears on the full-length LP "The Bend in the Break" coming Oct 14, 2016 on Top Shelf Records.
Al Brown - Vocals, Guitar
Justin Smith - Vocals, Guitar
Chris Conde - Bass
Anthony Rivera - Drums

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Vitriol Records Los Angeles

Vitriol is a group of relative stains from the Southern California/Los Angeles area. This project was started as an attempt to maintain the highest level of autonomy, with friends and collaborators, in the most legit way we could. Bands include Graf Orlock, Ghostlimb, Dangers, Fischer, Comadre, Griever, Birds In Row, etc. Write what you want to read, play what you want to hear. ... more

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Track Name: Kiss with Spit
It’s in the bloom of a bruise. It’s in the way she wears cold steak on an eye that’s swollen shut. That hairline split between love and ache. Kiss with spit. It’s in a fist full of hair. It’s in a gasping for air. It’s the imprint of teeth into flesh, into scalp, into the hum-, into the drums. Kiss with spit. What we hide behind locked doors. What we sweep under floorboards. All the filth that gets us by. It’s the violence that keeps us alive. Young, numb, and dumb. I want the scar. I want split lips. I want the gag,I want the choke, I want the spit. Kiss with spit. I feel the pain. I kiss with spit.
Track Name: Longpig
I can recall with perfect clarity the swim of youthful guts as I sat watching that TV. The filthy smile he offered to the lens. That grainy footage of the freezer where he stuffed them. The nausea when you realize humans can’t distinguish what’s food from trophy from life. Flesh and bone.
Track Name: Oxhead
What’s in a word? What’s in a name? And how do I tame these beasts to which I’m slave? I fork my tongue into the thoughts, but words can’t seem to span across the gulf between what’s in my head and all the things I say instead. Untwist my tongue. Fact check my fictions. Maybe you’re just deaf, or maybe I’m just dumb. Bruised cheek. Split tongue. One more Bucephalus. Maybe I’m happy, or maybe I’m just dumb. Another word. Another slang. Another grammar. Another failure to communicate. The things I tried to say to you as we drove through that Texas June. Our love, like a hex, snaked around my suffix. Untwist my tongue. Fact check my fictions. Maybe you’re just deaf, or maybe I’m just dumb. Bruised cheek. Split tongue. One more Bucephalus. Maybe I’m happy, or maybe I’m just dumb.The son of a son of a son of a son... Sometimes, at night, when I can’t sleep, the things you said that day echo through me. “If you can ride (write) that beast, then you can take him home. But trust me, son,” you said, “you’ll suffer the writing all alone.” Untwist my tongue. Bucephalus. Untwist my tongue. Bucephalus. Cut out my tongue. Aphasia. Bucephalus.