Hipster Couch

by The Artwork Of

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02:28
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01:33
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03:35
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released May 5, 2012

Recorded at Cardinal Lane Studios in Howell, NJ

You can blame The Artwork Of for everything regarding this mess.

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The Artwork Of New Jersey

Jersey’s beautifully cacophonous five -piece The Artwork Of have just released their new EP The Road Ends//The Road Never Ends. As usual, the band self-produced the project creating yet another new sound, despite a sudden line-up change, turning their signiture brand of “noisecore” into what fans are calling “a more mature version of themselves.” ... more

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Track Name: All Hands
This is no dawning of a new age. This is simple minds making a statement. We are more than what we wear or what we smell like and we are not the hoodlum fucks we seem to be.

Ambition, bigger than the drugs they say we do. I can still see all the hands who were as eager as us to see forward progress.

Don’t fuck with us, we are driven to rebel and we will not stop until we see blood. For God sakes man, where’s your dignity? Be civil and effective; be right but still so wrong. It’s something like this that can only be trial and error. We have a cause and we take our faults to heart.

Let me know I’m still doing my job. Let me see all hands.
Track Name: Make Love, Not Women
Nights spent in awkward silences and uncomfortable positions are worse than an entire life spent in a room, alone with sounds. I've got myself what need have I for my ears to ring and your mouth to move.

I'd rather make love to this sound than any trash you put on my back porch. It's ok, I'm alone at heart but I'm occupied with what I've always had: the need to strive for something greater. Strive for something greater.

What have I got myself into now? A state I would rather not be it seems.

And don't preach to a preacher because I know you just want to have fun. It seems that I've lost my home in my mind and you were mine as much as I was yours. Where is my home?

Long lost, long lost.
Track Name: Reno's Finest
I'm sick of doubting myself. I've got a billion fucking voices in my head all telling me a different direction to get home, and what's the cost?

All connections severed and lost of transmission. My understanding of a packet sent is still missing.

When poles don't meet throws, the end result: my eyes are blank, reflecting my thoughts.

And all ends that I've severed will altogether come and scream, "my how your disorders have put so much at stake but when it comes to our luck I'll be damned if I'm awake."

Voices used to walk the lines that made up my memory/Now the desert/without the quick sinking.

The barren days of my youth are rusting on a shelf in an old timer's dreams.
Track Name: Manufractured
Disappointment; the crowd cries for it over again. We tried to play what they didn't want and got shot down.

I overheard the chief of the tribe and he grunted for more: "I want what they have."

Still everyone complains that nothing is new. What else is new? We are incapable of providing a good source of creativity.

Your outlet has been used up. Dream big and die misguided.

Of course all we is write shit when all we hear is a Rise of manufactured redundancy.

I can't even say "be yourself" without it said by hair with a voice.

Remember originality? Neither do I.
Track Name: Weehawken
I have read his heart in his wicked eyes. The very devil is in them. Another sweet soul will fall victim of the same ignorance he preys on. Every soldier can't warp this mind.

From the barrel of a loaded gun we pledge to take what is ours.

Distance yourself from what you see. They know nothing.
Track Name: Helicopters
Your voice cannot be lost in the sound of the helicopters flying higher than clouds; it is the ringing in my ears and the beating of my heart. I don’t expect anything but your modern day politics and your ramblings. If you took it from me, you’d be faced down on Earth with your back in knots.

Holy God, I’m feeling some sort of rapture. I could really use a good night’s sleep without your face staring me down as I sleep. Your silence sounds better in this atmosphere.

Turn around, you can’t abuse localization up here. Look at me when I speak so each word I waste makes your face blue. Bring me back down I want to touch the clouds and not think on it. Why does the sun exist if life is no longer held in the balance of Love.

This sounds much better in this atmosphere.

Lets take this back to my place, much more practical I think. No intrusion but no letters to land on. Some way well find a way to get back home, to get back home. Oh yes this is exactly what it looks like could you tell from a million miles away that I’m just a mask with an ugly face behind you. Oh god, what makes this harder is that it’s all just a lie down here and up there the chopper floats up as our hearts do, and keep beating.

Is it bothersome to think on it? Does it matter that it’s not what you were thinking? If it means that much to you, get back in and fly it back up where the romance first began.

Help me escape, I need this more than you’ll ever know. Leave me awake, I want to look at the sky as I go. Help me escape, I need this more than you’ll ever know.

Was it good for me? Was it good for you? Maybe it was good for both of us.

Your voice cannot be lost in the sound of helicopters flying higher than clouds. It is the ringing in my ears and the beating of my heart.
Track Name: Meals on Wheels
Oh how impressive that you can hide behind a trigger.

I believe you once expressed your distaste but switched when you saw a signal in the sky that looked like your chest piece.

I can think of nothing I fear more than lawlessness and the encouraging of dystopian ideals. Instill your friendship into the weak; clear your home of those who speak that which you know to be morally wrong.

It looks as if the actions of our youth are plaguing the community.

Slick car you’ve got there. Oh you shouldn’t have.

You can’t solve the world’s problems with a shotgun, but it’s the only thing I know.