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Live at the Hive

by Grampfather

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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.
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. Thad B. Radd! Thad B. Radd! 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. Thad B. Radd! Thad B. Radd!
5.
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. * 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?
6.
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?
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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.
9.
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?
10.
Ooh ooh ooh
11.
12.
I can’t find the words that I can live by. I just edit the script when it goes awry. It’s okay, it’s alright, we’ll find our way tonight. And tomorrow we’ll undo everything we said we’d do. But something will have to take root someday soon. Can’t make up my mind what is worth my time? No, we will not fail though our plan’s derailed. Redirect the sail, calibrate the scale. It’s alright, it’s okay, there’s always another way. Before you die what’ll you miss? What’ll it take to rot in bliss? We can be the buffer between what we’ll suffer, we can soften the blows so it’s not all dread and woe and misery. I have already wasted so much time harping on the grief. “It’s okay” is just what we say when we’ve lost our way. Can we take the reins? Is it all in vain? Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! Driving myself crazy trying to decide lately. Toss it about you’ll figure it out, living in a limbo of profound doubt. I don’t want to open that door, closing all the others forever more. Sooner or later you’ll have to choose, or someone else will do so for you. Before you die what will you miss? What will it take to rot in bliss? Toss it about you’ll figure it out, living in a limbo of profound doubt. I can’t get it right, think I might toss it, make it end, start again. I can’t wait it out anymore. I know what I got and what I want. Whoah, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! Driving myself crazy trying to decide lately. Whoah, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!
13.
You pick and you choose when it works for you, well, if only it were that convenient to replace fact with preference. So go on, pick your poison and one to rag on to even out your biases and stratify all your alliances. Despite it all you smoke Pall Mall menthols as if the good could outweigh your bad calls. You stand firm for what you believe in though it goes against all reason. You pick and you choose when it works for you, well, I know, it’s just a crutch but you’ll fall if you lean too much. Inhale and exhale real life and tall tales. Who am I to tell the difference? Just breathe to reveal the sequence. Despite it all you smoke Pall Mall menthols as if the good could outweigh your bad calls. Sometimes it’s fine to make our own meanings though some go against all reason. * It comes and goes and lets me know I’m not alone in my own home. Beyond the walls I hear the calls– the voice of whom I do not know at all. The clicks and clacks and creaks all cease– when I knock back the beast recedes. I know someday we’ll meet– well, what’s it gonna be, you or me? There’s a man inside my wall– I swear I heard him before dawn rummaging beyond the halls– I know I’ll catch him before long. Landlord says there’s no one there– then why’d I find this strand of hair by the door of the attic? Is this not cause for panic? There’s a man inside my wall– I swear I heard him before dawn rummaging beyond the halls– I know I’ll catch him before long. Landlord says there’s no one here– then what’s with all these empty beers piling up in the trash? I don’t drink Bud, it tastes like ass. One day I heard breaking glass so it was time to face facts: Somewhere lurking in the wall is a man having a ball and all at my expense living free off of my rent. Well, we’ll see how winter goes– without heat, will he show? The man in the wall. The man in the wall. Down the road there’s a Chevy Astro that comes and goes and I think I know who owns it. I met the man inside the wall– it just turns out he’s not so bad after all. All he wants is to live free and make some noise– he’s just like you and me.
14.
Take it all in stride but don’t waste no time. Savor while you can before you lose the taste again. I’m just trying to keep myself sane as everything around me decays. So here’s a toast to those who make my days and to my rotting body and brain. Some days I feel like I have just been born, others feel like I’ve lived too long. So I’ll take the sum ‘cause it’s just the same to this rotting body and brain. Take up all my time— it was never mine. Watch it slip from your grasp, a gift for which you never asked. Savor while you can before you lose the taste again. Take it all in stride but don’t waste no time. I got to admit this isn’t what I predicted as a child— I thought I would run the show, but the more you know the more you go to great lengths to keep yourself sane as everything around you decays. So here’s a toast to all who make our days and to our rotting bodies and brains.
15.
The singularity merging machines with you and me. The singularity. What we once thought was so out of reach in our lifetime is right here at our feet. A rude awakening for us all crossing over to the life digital. Cross over. Cross over. Cross over. Cross over. Cross over. The water’s fine. Cross over. It’s all in your mind. Cross over. Cross over. Cross over. Cross over. Cross over. Cross over. Cross over. Cross over. Cross over. The water’s fine. Cross over. It’s all in your mind. Cross over. Cross over. Cross over. It’s all over.
16.
666G all around me, seeping within and under your skin, radiating through you and me and we take heed of some force unseen. It’s past the threshold and burst at the seams. It’s gotten old, getting hung up on what seems to be another bunk conspiracy to occlude the world I see. You weren’t immune to what you thought you’d dispute. It crept right on in and moved your mouth for you. 666G pulling on the strings for me. A viral lie that you find that you kind of align with, further blurring the line between truth and the lies that keep you feeling righteous despite all the sacrifices of familial ties to 666G all around me, radiating through you and me and we receive the transmission and we believe convenient fictions. Cynicism has lost its rhythm and reach. 666G is just something that we conceive and impose on those who oppose what we think that we know. But there won’t be relief ‘til we finally let go.
17.
Take me to where I want to be. It’s a place called Hot Dog Beach. It’s right by the sea where the air is salty. I doubt I’ll find some heaven in the sky. No, that’s not for me. I need something I can see and that’s Hot Dog Beach. Tide is high and so am I. Everybody’s feeling alright under the sun and moonlight– not a worry in sight. So take me to where I want to be. It’s a place called Hot Dog Beach. It’s right by the sea where the air is salty. It’s always on my mind but I can’t be there all the time. Whenever the weather’s right you and I will make the drive. ‘Cause lately I’ve been craving some Hot Dog beach. I’ve been waiting to taste the air and salty sea. It’s all that I need to keep me young. I just want the cool breeze and the heat of the sun. I can’t find it anywhere else. Nowhere can compare in making your heart melt. So take me to where I want to be. It’s a place called Hot Dog Beach. It’s right by the sea where the air is salty. I doubt I’ll find some heaven in the sky. No, that’s not for me. I need something I can see and that’s Hot Dog Beach. The place takes a space up in my mind free from all its changes in real time. It’s always on my mind bright and light. Whenever the weather’s right we’ll make the drive. ‘Cause lately I’ve been craving some Hot Dog Beach. I’ve been waiting to taste the air and sea. It’s all that I need to keep me young, is the cool breeze and the heat of the sun. The places holding spaces in our mind are often more distorted than we’d like. It’s always on my mind bright and light. Whenever the weather’s right we’ll make the drive. So take me to where I want to be. It’s a place called Hot Dog Beach. It’s right by the sea where the air is salty. I doubt I’ll find some heaven in the sky. No, that’s not for me. I need something I can see and that’s Hot Dog Beach. Tide is high and so am I. Everybody’s feeling alright under the sun and moonlight– not a worry in sight. I doubt I’ll find some heaven in the sky. No, that’s not for me. I need something I can see and that’s Hot Dog Beach.
18.
We need to unlearn everything we think we know. Self-proclaimed patriots maintain the status quo. Red-painted pigs, oblivious to the creed of their own country, what obvious hypocrisy. Yesterday’s rebels are today’s perfect pawns. The sun has long since set and there’s no sign of dawn. The world is on fire, end times are on the rise. These greedy motherfuckers need to eat shit and die. Bootlicking yellowbelly sons of bitches oppressing themselves by protecting the rich with false, worn narratives that scapegoat the poor, never once questioning how they profit from what you ignore. We need to unlearn everything we think we know Illusory certainties shatter, ebb, and flow Some humble humility, some much needed doubt to loosen the fixity and throw the fuckers out. Bootlicking yellowbelly sons of bitches widen the divide with their misled isms: “Protect and serve” means abuse and exploit, “Liberty for all” the grand illusion of choice. Fat in wallet yet bereft in spirit. If their god ever sang out, they would not hear it. Your god is mute ‘cause your god is hate, pray all you want for Satan awaits cackling as you pack all your precious shit in a sack on your back for your lavish trip to heaven or whatever you see fit, but really you just fucking die, and that’s it. * There is no happy place you go, no rejoice, only the void, deafeningly devoid of any semblance of joy, indifferent and mute darkness absolute. Don't hold your breath. Nobody needs eternity. I’m good with death. Isn’t it enough? Reality’s fraying seams dissemble and spread. Certainty’s the enemy-- the sentiment’s dead. Swept away with entropy the ideas in your head. O to believe in some grand prophecy, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.

about

A live album comprised of songs from our two 2022 albums, Gramppappies and 666G, and some other jingles.

credits

released May 5, 2023

Recorded at Jive Hive Live in Albany, NY
Live recording by Alec Lewis
Produced by Grampfather

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

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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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