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1. Sorry, I Don't Speak Homeless
2. Erection 2008/Diamagnetics
3. Guinness World Record For Most Guinness Consumed In One Year
4. Blood-Sucking Eldon Make You Feel Worse (I Saw Her Pussy Hair and It Ain't Neon Orange)
5. I Know You're Not Changing the Notes
6. Tahana Make You Feel DIFF'RENT
7. Nowhere To Go (Livingbrooks Cover)

Cold Electrics makes its/his debut with a true clusterfuck of would-be skills. Thismini-album simultaneously portrays all and nothing of what the artist, producer, or engineer originally intended. A definitive case of one person wearing all the hats in a confined space with too much time and no limitations, "Y'know, For Charity" aurally/texturally/emotionally demonstrates how an imperfect recording is made. In other words, this is exactly how you’re not supposed to “do it.” The idea (scam) is that "imperfect" is refreshing and new again. Something and someone comes through the speakers free from computer manipulation, trickery, and tuning. What's left is nothing more than despair, self-realization, a complete lack of hooks, and maybe even some exaggeration for the sake of a story. Or maybe this is just a bunch of writing demos the artist didn’t want to do over. Roughly 900 beers were consumed by the artist/producer/engineer during the making of these recordings and it shows. 900 is a low estimate, by the way.

Sean Eldon Qualls
Regular guitar, acoustic guitar, baritone guitar, bass guitar, drums, “singing”, ukulele, dulcimer, melodica, organ, muff-clav, Nintendo Entertainment System, probably other instruments and noisemakers, writer, arranger, producer,

Adam Brass (aka Roc Mixwell The Equalizer)
Left-side drums on “Nowhere To Go”, anti-enthusiasm

Chris Baltrus
Writer of The Livingbrooks’ “Nowhere To Go,” originally
released DIY mad years ago, now available on Quote Unquote Records.

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Sorry, I Don't Speak Homeless

Before song, boy meets girl. During song, boy builds baritone guitar and parts ways with girl. Now all that’s left to do is SLAY DEEP RIFFS. How cliché…but yeah this song is certainly about the fear involved in losing comfort. They’re all sorta about that but you didn’t hear it from me.

Now it’s serious, second time that I picked the wrong day
Play nice
Take time
I can’t concentrate on anything but dying
We act furious, can’t recall when I did the right thing
Won’t say
“We’ll see”
I can’t concentrate on anything but dying
You can run but you can’t do anything that I want from you
You can run girl, but you can’t do anything that I ask of you

Erection 2008/Diamagnetics

Multiple choice! This song is about A) lust, B) horrible cocaine addiction, C) Chinatown buses, D) walking in the snow, E) all of the above. I haven’t counted, but I’m pretty sure this one has the most words.

I’ll taste the water from the bay
It keeps my fever down
Time takes the pressure off some days
I should write this down
Draw lines you weren’t meant to see
Rail down the island wide
Smells like a time when I was free
We saw nose to eye
Everyone’s a’packin’
Where’s the attraction?
Not here
My ol’ lonesome’s found some company
An old flame is warm
Too warm to go near
Trek back’s the icing on the cake
Quick slip to common ground
Phone rings, the answer saves the day
Wish you’d write this down
Blood red, written out
Lips chapped and splittin’ apart
My hair is matted and frozen
Loafers worn and splittin’ off
Body seeks attention
The wind winds and scoops me up
Carries me to my seat
This is where I’ll stay
Stay ‘til I can see.

Guinness World Record For Most Guinness Consumed In One Year

Song title is probably true but the song isn’t about that. The meaning of this song is actually a moving target…I wrote it and it means like 4 different things to me. Ever get temporary alcohol-induced impotence? I have.

The couch is crunching numbers that I’d saved up for long
Far too long
Eventually numbers come to blows and they’re gone
I knew this all along
Tomorrow is a new one but I’ll stay up ‘till dawn
Just dreaming on
I call upon the image of her throat in my palm
Smiling never felt so wrong

Why don’tchu come along and shift your weight this way?
Can you believe the mess I made?

Foul. Bend it up break it out and backwards.
Yawn yawn yawn
I can’t stifle my boredom

I’m falling into patterns that you’d warned me to avoid
‘Cos I don’t know no better and I’m trying to repair
What once had fell, destroyed

Blood-Sucking Eldon Make You Feel Worse (I Saw Her Pussy Hair and It Ain’t Neon Orange)

Song title comes from what I said to a Jagermeister girl at a Bomb The Music Industry! show in Foxboro, which ultimately got me kicked out of said show. The song’s about an awkward threesome, though. RIFFS RIFFS RIFFS SLAYING RIFFS.

The rain moves in, makes moves for the door
Creating waves just because that’s what the world needs more
We file in and pick our space
Well this is mine, so you know
Just in case – this is just in case I stay too late

And what don’t kill me, but really should
Decides to keep the meter movin’
Engaging in our monthly fling
Learnin’ ourselves to swing!

Motel seems swell. Curtains closed.
Lights on, of course.
What would you think
Of learnin’ ourselves to swing?
Sing songs that sound like mine.

I Know You’re Not Changin’ the Notes

I started drinking at a Bomb The Music Industry! show in Boston at about 2pm, Steve Foote dropped me off in the South End at 8pm, I blacked out as he pulled away, and then I woke up at the Fung Wah Bus window in Manhattan at 6am the next morning. Whoops. I figured I might as well spend some time in NY since I was already there, so I went out to Huntington and knocked on the window of a female friend who I was trying to bring back with me. After a day or two of “No, Sean” I went back home, defeated. This story ends well, however, as after about 8 months of pestering her, she now lives with me in Boston. The happy ending isn’t in the song though ‘cos it hadn’t happened yet.

Hooked, lined, and fucked beyond belief
Can’t reel myself in
Formula’s run its course and fizzled out
I’ll try it all again
Cab’s flying aimlessly around your town
Routes making no sense
‘Cos the way we came’s not no way I ever been

Came to the window and dropped her jaw
With eyes mostly open
Surprise! Here I am again!

Feelin’ half dead
You rest your head, I’ll stare as you sleep again
Keepin’ my paws to myself for now
You’d just resist my paws anyhow
Feelin’ half dead
You rest your head

Tahana Make You Feel DIFF’RENT

Crippling depression + Nintendo + slaying riffs on your grave = this song.

While reading aloud the sign of the times
The words come crawling together
Fishin’ around for answers I like
But’ve yet to find much better, so
Clasp your hands and say a prayer for prayers
Inside in – outside the world’s affairs
Clasp your hands

Light up another
Drink wine with my brothers
Y’know that they’re the invisible kind
I’ll tell them the stories of when I loved others
To no reply
December the something-or-other
Takes tops for worst day ever
Now which one exactly, can’t remember
It’s all in the past now, whatever…

Nowhere To Go

This song is a Livingbrooks song written by Chris Baltrus. Muddy Waters WISHES he wrote this song. It is one of my favorite songs ever, and serves as a good thematic bookend for this thing. This was recorded with something I call “SEANCRAPHONE”, except for one quick bit that obviously was not. This song is a departure from the others as it features my friend Roc Mixwell The Equalizer playing one of the drum kits.

Sitting around
Nowhere to go
Gotta get out of this town
Well I’m feelin’ kinda down, feelin’ kinda low
Nowhere to go
Think I’m gonna stay home
Sitting around
Nowhere to go
Gotta get outta my head
Well I’m feelin’ kinda down, feelin’ kinda dead
Nowhere to go
Think I’m gonna stay home

Well I’m not saying that I don’t care
That I’m not having fun
‘Cos if I don’t get outta here
My mind’s gonna go numb

Sitting around
Nowhere to go
Gotta get outta this town
Well I’m feelin’ kinda down, feelin’ kinda low
Nowhere to go
Think I’m gonna stay home