Another Family Dinner at the Saturn Residence Ends In Tears

by The Sad Bastard Book Club

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about

"A celebration of defeatism and pining" (thanks Richard von Busack!) in the form of 10 singalong songs revolving around familial dissolution, biological geography, and badgers.

credits

released November 1, 2010

Recorded and mixed by the SBBC in an old hotel saloon in San Gregorio, CA. Mastered by Eric Ruud in an apartment overlooking San Francisco. Additional voices supplied by the Pauper Choir of San Gregorio, CA (full disclosure: no one in the choir lives in San Gregorio or is, in fact, a member of a choir). Thanks to everyone who had a hand in this. Your number is legion. Our love for you immense. (that sounds dirty but it's not meant to)

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The Sad Bastard Book Club San Francisco, California

Four people in a tiny San Francisco room playing overly loud doomy folk music (post-americana?) singing songs about the fibrodysplasia of the green world, animal rebellion, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, if we don't destroy everything first you might have the chance to pet a wolf before it tears your throat out in a vengeance killing. ... more

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Track Name: Unfortunately, the Signposts Are All Written in a Language We Can Never Hope to Understand
On a road like this
Everything starts to blur
We have lost our way
Don't know where to turn
Go back home instead
Return to where we came
Time to find our place
Time to start again
Track Name: Back Before a Time Out Lasted 10 to 20 Years
Sometimes he pretends
That they were just children
With toy guns and candy cigarettes
Tattoos were temporary
Monsters were imaginary
And being grounded was the biggest threat
But that was absurd, patently untrue
There were a thousand decisions he could not undo
The child that he was had long since past
The joy was gone the innocence could not last
Years of bitterness had killed that boy
But its ghost was something he could not avoid
Track Name: The Pauper Choir of San Jose, California
Welcome home, we're glad you're back
Drop that suitcase and that dusty old knapsack
You won't be needing those here
This is where we've all hung our traveling years
We've been waiting
The garden's withered since you've left
Marcos went to jail and your poor mother's been bereft
But enough of these sad guilt filled tales
Biological geography prevails!
We've been waiting
It's been ages since we've seen you last
Before we speak of the future we must deal with the past
Your brother went off to war and your whore of a sister we speak of her no more
We've been waiting
It's kind of silly, your desire to roam
You could go a million miles but you'll never find home
Your feet are now on the land which you were born
So wipe off that pout and stop looking so forlorn
We've been waiting
(Welcome Home! Welcome Home!)
Track Name: After 20 Years of Pouring Gasoline Into the Soil, It's Time to Collect the Harvest
We've lost our families to imaginary lines
Our children grew up in what we said were the end of times
With our damaged homes
With our fear of the rising seas
With our endless lists of bacteria, viruses, disease
With our blinding mistrust and our endless distinctions of men
With our parsing of the world into us and them
With all of our gods and all of our sins
We've buried them before they could begin
(They never had a chance
Their gas soaked seed was fated for the match)
Track Name: It's Touching Moments Like These That Remind Me Why We Don't Speak Much
Shut your eyes he said
This isn't real this is only a dream
Shut your eyes he said
This isn't real your are only sleeping
The young boys father took him aside
He said "if hopes are like birds then our flock just died
I know the past few years have been rough
I've been doing the best to keep us going but I know it's not enough"
In his once strong grip he took his son's small hand
"Things will soon be different and I hope you'll understand"
He knelt down beside the boy and the boy saw his tears
He saw a broken and frightened man trying to bury all his fears
"I am truly sorry my son, it wasn't meant to be like this but this is what's become.
I am truly sorry my son. Some day the worst will be over but until then pretend it's done."
"This is for the best, believe me. This is for your own good."
Track Name: The Choir of Knives Must Sing For Its Supper
Randy was abandoned when he was young
Angela was cast out of a careless home
Marcus knew what it meant to survive
He knew you didn't own your life, it was only on loan
They knew that the choir of knives must sing for its supper
They thought themselves war orphans
Dumpster babies, throw aways
Dickensian cut pockets and cherub faced theives
The truth was less glamorous as usually is the way
They were hungry, homeless, and huddled against the freeze
They joked that the choir of knives must sing for its supper
Randy caught pneumonia at the tail end of December
Without a doctors care this family would lose a member
They feared that they choir of knives must sing for its supper
Coughs racked his body and desperation grew
Marcus only wanted to help his friend so it became true
That the choir of knives must sing for its supper
Track Name: You Get An 'A' for Effort, But Burning a Pile of Physics Books Won't Curry Favor With the Gods of Construction. It Will Only Piss Off the Laws of Nature
This is not flight said the dove
This is merely falling from high above
Can't stop the seas from swelling
Can't stop the waves from crashing in
The decay that owns your cliff is growing
On where you perched your perch my friend
This is not flight said the dove
This is merely falling from high above
In a cage, flapping its wings
Pretending to be aloft while waiting for what the ground brings
Reality can be painful
For those who build foundations on hope and sand
Once glimpse of heaven can't deny
That all sandcastles wash away in the end
Gravity cares not for your plans
Or for your goal to stay on the dry land
You may be granted a reprieve but ultimately
The fall is long, the stop is short my friend
Track Name: These Zombie Problems Have Gotten Out of Hand, No?
This rusted island we call home
Was sinking beneath the sea foam
Waves were crashing higher but we did not care
The moon was in the sky that night, stars provided all the light
We held each other and pretended we weren't there
This rusted island we call home
Was sinking beneath the sea foam
Buckets floated uselessly in the swelling tide
The moon was in the sky that night, stars provided all the light
We had realized that we could not hide.
This rusted island we call home
Was sinking beneath the sea foam
Fish were in the cellar as we took off our clothes
The moon was in the sky that night
Stars provided all the light
They looked down upon us as we accepted our roles
Track Name: We Build Ghost Towns From the Ground Up
Foreclosure on our home
Default our loan
We're on our own
Track Name: Mr. Badgerface Would Like to Propose a Solution to Your Problem That Requires Him Eating One of Your Children. Are You Okay With the Terms of This Agreement? Excellent, Then Let's Continue.
Tearing up the concrete to remove the prints
Of a tiny set of hands that were a tiny set of twins
Cement has a memory that flesh could only wish
But sometimes a sledge needs to loose its grasp
On the empirical data that informs the past
Past by which the present is harassed
But once they're gone they stay that way
And perhaps she didn't kill them, maybe she just gave them away
She won't speak to the neighbors so it's a guessing game they play
Where did they go?
I saw them the last week
Why does she look so sad?
Why is she now so meek?
There was a man poking around the week before
He came at odd hours hammering his fist against their darkened door
He could have been the father
But no one knows for sure
They never came out alone again after that night
When they did they were holding each others hand so tight
That the circulation was cut off leaving their fingers paper white
Where did they go?
I saw them the last week
Why does she look so sad?
Why is she now so meek?