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Gramppappies

by Grampfather

/
1.
Another day, another plague, murder hornets on their way. Daily lies desensitize, incessant terror normalized. All hope seems but a distant dream drifting away with each deceit. We’ve come to know a curse of old– only misery is all we’ll know. Another year, a new host of fears to keep us fed as death draws near— preoccupied as we die, wildfires blot out the sky and clowns at the helm overwhelm, inundate, indoctrinate, buy and sell. Told to forgo all you know by those who thrive when your eyes are closed. Oh, what could have been? What could have been has been and will be again. So long to linear time, fate’s not a straight line, it was all inside my mind. Murder hornets swarming borders and seas. Ever looming a new brewing disease. All the figures’ names change but the game stays the same— the waves erase the faces. How many lives lost? How many lives does one man’s ego cost? Abyss yawning as the new day’s dawning.
2.
Complacent through the ages: “It’s always been this way.” Keep telling yourself that it’s never going to change. Tradition’s your only mission, to always stay the same– despite facts that reveal fictions, you’re never going to change. Set in your ways until the day you die alongside no one besides your pride. But a mind transcribed does not die soon, even though you might want it to. I can’t reach you, I can’t break through. Fragmented into factions– down we go the rabbit holes to mend dissatisfaction with what we don’t want to know– though you can try to ignore it, reality has a way of breaking down your fortress and permeating everything you thought you knew– gone are the old days, adapt or decay. I don’t know what to say, it seems clear to me– the only thing that stays the same is the changing constantly– so keep up or keep out. Echo chambers suffocate the range of the mind. God forbid you ever become a critic of yourself. There’s sanctity in humility– you can’t always get it right. I hope one day you’ll see through the duplicity of those who seem to only worship spite. I know, it’s not easy to leave behind a lie that you believed in. The distance between you and me is the difference between our worlds and screens. The you you made is on display– your manufactured, preferred face, but it’s hard for me to believe that you’d actually think you’d succeed in deceiving anybody But yourself– too bad, oh well, we’ve all got our own hells. It just doesn’t make sense to me. I mean, times are pretty rough. Why spread the misery? Isn’t there enough?
3.
Step outside your head a while and see, your isolation has you hating me. your world’s shrinking, now you’re sinking in your thinking having let it all go so unchecked. What did you expect? Did you think someone was just standing around waiting to clean up your mess? What a fatal resolve to think you’ve seen it all and that everyone is just a lost cause fated to fall prey to the slaughter to the values you once fought for, rendered irrelevant by contextual reverence. No, this is not the end– I feel alive again. Yeah, you gotta see it through to know just what might ensue. So don’t lose your head. There’s another way and a fate to forget. There’s an array, so let’s not get caught up. But if it’s not enough can’t just lie down and let up, yeah, you gotta see it through– I’ll do it for you. What keeps me going is the unknown road. Step outside your head and then you’ll know ever-expanding understand of your plan to endure whatever may come your way.
4.
Large garbage piling up in the corners, the stench is seeping into the hall now when the sun is red and most overhead. Cooking up all the muck and the grime now, we’re stirring up a soup we’ll soon find out the taste we made with our rage as the waste of our residual fates metastasizes and propagates. Simultaneously growing and rotting– the cruel hand of time is not stopping for me or you, it’s just doom and bloom. All the time in and out of my mind– always winding up just to unwind the carousel of heaven and hell goes round and round but we know that we’re bound to spill over, unsure of what it all amounts to. Just wanna be fresh and sweet, you and me, clean as can be, though who knows where it all goes? “Out of sight, out of mind” won’t work this time. I can’t see, sky’s been screened from my eyes, dense as an ancient forest, like large garbage stuck in orbit. I don’t need a clean slate, just some rest and a hot plate. I don’t need to stay the course, having strayed I can see the hidden claymores set up for me and you to ensnare us in some pyramid scheme just to scare us and make a couple bills off of our free will. Large garbage piling up in the corners. will we persevere or drown as hoarders of all things faded and antiquated? how the past piles up and has you mistaking what’s right before your eyes and what’s beyond the horizon. As the pile builds and plumes and further occludes your view, you’ll know what to do: Ignore the issue just like you’re used to, until one day you choose to give into or dig through this great wall of refuse, you’ll know what to do: Claw your way out where the light slips through. then we can see, sky’s been freed for our eyes, cleared of years of bias– now I’m not pious, so I don’t think they’ll buy this. I can’t seem to shake it off no matter what I tell myself. Well, it’s okay, I’ll just think and pray and hope that my hope won’t dissipate. Large garbage piling up in the corners, the stench is seeping into the hall now when the sun is red and most overhead. Cooking up all the muck and the grime now, we’re stirring up a soup we’ll soon find out the taste we made with our rage as the waste of our residual fates metastasizes and propagates.
5.
Thad B. Radd 02:59
Thad B. Radd! Thad B. Radd! Thad B. Radd! Thad B. Radd! Thad B. Radd! Thad B. Radd!
6.
Poppies 03:50
We don’t like music, we can’t stand dancing, we can’t waste our time with this hopeless romancing. Well, time is money and we’re in debt to time– well, you gotta pay it back to that great taxman in the sky– so take it or leave it we’re all just make-believing. Invest in your future, sell off your hobbies, or just give it up and laze away in the poppies– forget what the flower means trade your power for efficiency. Well, it’s alright, it’s just that easy to pawn off your dreams as long as it feeds the well, the well is running dry– the idea is not to die, well, I just want my mind to fly but I gotta get that rent on time– you know how it goes, you don’t need me to tell you so. Just turn the song off, enjoy the moment devoid of noise and its respective components. So break it all down just to build it back up ‘cause you won’t know what it means unless you feel the lack of– when the silence consumes you you’ll beg for a note to tune to, and when the vivid dims you’ll long for a new song to begin. I can’t fight it, just feels right when my mind finds a way to speak free and easy, only bound to the beat– write it down to set it free. I can’t hide it just feels right when my mind finds a time to write to set it in stone and let it go when the time is right and watch your babies grow and flourish free and easy just like the poppies flutter in the breeze with no sign of stopping, ‘til the chill of winter wilts your flowers, but not the memories, they’re ours. Free and easy, only bound to the beat– write it down to set it free. I can’t fight it, just feels right when my mind finds a time to ride to set it in stone and let it go when the time is right and watch your babies grow and flourish free and easy just like the poppies flutter in the breeze with no sign of stopping, ‘til the chill of winter wilts your flowers, but not the memories, they’re ours.
7.
Weeding 03:31
How do I prioritize the troubles in my life and those of the times? Constantly compromising. So is this the deal? Does it make sense that when the ideal meets the real we settle for much less than what we had in mind? Ceaselessly sacrificing. Sifting through the good and bad, but who knows what gems might slip through the cracks? There’s just so much to learn and forget— just seeing what sticks and what gets left in the valley of debt. At what cost do we reach the summit? How evenly are the flowers and the weeds spaced between the withered and their seeds last time you checked? Weeding, trying to get it right. With each one you rip out another one grows overnight. What unsung work it is just to maintain balance in a mind field when it won’t stop raining. How do I prioritize what grows from within and what seeps in from outside? There’s just so much to learn and regret, but there’s just some things you never can forget, but isn’t it better yet than to completely numb your conscience?
8.
You gotta know right now ‘cause it was never said out loud. Let’s set the record straight— I am not one to wait too long. So let’s get it all out in the air. Do you really care for that which you cannot compare? Keep your heart close to home— after all that’s all we really know. Add up all of the little things at hand and all the time that’s passed— hang onto the friends who will last. Hold fast to all that which keeps you here— beyond the glowing fear of death, what keeps your heart sincere?
9.
Dead Ends 03:55
Strike a spark but the fire won’t catch– waking to a fate you did not expect– put in good karma but can’t cash that check. Despite your aims you can’t evade The dead ends, severing your visions in shreds and cutting you off and spitting you out without a map and the path is lost. Then darkness starts to swarm you, can’t see your hands before you– time ceases to exist, fading faster as you slip your grip, and once you get the hang of it it all shifts. Circling each day like a mouse in a maze. If only a bird’s eye view could show you the way to glean from each mistake and not become its prey. The crowd awaits your great escape To the unknown, a new home for your true form, or your delusions of what you think that others think that you should be doing beyond the dead ends, severing your rhythms in fragments and cutting you off and spewing you out without a beat and the time is lost. Just tap your foot to find it and you’ll be reminded of how your body used to move before you had to pay your dues. Now what has become of you? Just tell yourself it’s alright, though it might be contrived and all in your mind. To just fall in line is not in my design. It’s okay to not know the way through it all and those who claim to you can trust about as much as any old point of view when the direction changes, the whole landscape rearranges by the intentions and the angles that’ll send you on your way to an early grave or be the saving grace you half believe in.
10.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.

about

Gramppappies, our fifth album, is our most realized album yet in that it encapsulates our range of sounds, wavering between abrasive rockers and indie chillers. While our last album, Magnum Grampus, was fueled by the anger and frustration conjured by the countless tragedies of 2020, Gramppappies offers more hope for the future, a weighted, contemplative hope that's informed by past experiences and events, and not a naive, starry-eyed one. A main theme that's threaded throughout the album is our appreciation of music, the role it plays in our lives, and how it keeps us going despite the many miseries we'll endure in this life. It's too easy to just give up and resolve that it's all hopeless. The contrary seems like a much better and brighter path. Here's to hoping for hope.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reviews:

Psychedelic Baby
www.psychedelicbabymag.com/2022/02/gramppappies-by-grampfather-album-premiere.html

Chronogram
m.chronogram.com/hudsonvalley/album-review-grampfather-gramppappies/Content?oid=15778015

RAG Talent
www.ragtalent.com/post/spotlight-interview-with-grampfather


Turn Up the Volume
turnupthevolume.blog/2022/03/14/psychedelic-prog-rock-pandemonium-with-american-riff-junks-grampfather/

Nippertown
nippertown.com/2022/04/04/in-session-james-kwapisz-of-grampfather/

Kingston Wire
kingstonwire.com/news/2022/3/4/an-album-for-hope/843Osr?force_ignore_preferences=1


Radio Radio X
radioradiox.com/2022/03/03/grampfather-seeks-to-bring-the-world-together-through-murder-hornets-by-joshua-reedy/

Glide Magazine
glidemagazine.com/270420/song-premiere-grampfather-share-bouncy-psyched-out-indie-rocker-poppies/

WRRV
wrrv.com/grampfather-album-release/

Turn Up the Volume
turnupthevolume.blog/2022/01/29/psychedelic-guitar-frenzy-with-grampfather-and-new-single-gramppappies/

If It's Too Loud
www.ifitstooloud.com/2022/02/grampfather-poppies.html?m=1

If It's Too Loud
www.ifitstooloud.com/2022/01/grampfather-murder-hornets.html?m=1

credits

released February 25, 2022

Gramppappies

James Kwapisz (vox, guitar, bass, synth)
Andrew Blot (lead guitar)
Tony DiMauro (drums)
Jake Offermann (bass)

Dylan Fader (organ, harmonica)
"Murder Hornets" & "The Myspace Tom Continuum"

Mixed by James Kwapisz
Mastered by Westfall Recording Company

Album art by Jake Offermann
"Murder Hornets" cover art by Cole Solis-Jativa
"Poppies" cover art by Emily Offermann

Grampfather © 2022

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about

Grampfather Kingston, New York

Grampfather is an indie-psych rock band based out of Kingston, NY, whose material traverses a variety of rock genres, such as indie, garage, punk, psych, chill, and thrash.

James Kwapisz: vocals, guitar, synth
Tony DiMauro: drums
Andrew Blot: guitar, keys
Jake Offermann: bass

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Instagram: @grampfatherrr,
or Twitter: @GRAMPFATHER.
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