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Dogs at Play Among the Ruins

by Kids Eat Crayons

supported by
Rhokeheart
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Rhokeheart Amazingly well composed experimental music with horns and heavy tendencies.
Can This Even Be Called Music?
Can This Even Be Called Music? thumbnail
Can This Even Be Called Music? Kids Eat Crayons is a wonderful experimental jazz band from Montreal, it’s a great album I haven’t found much to say about, unfortunately, but do get it!
canthisevenbecalledmusic.com/one-sentence-reviews-october-13th-2015/ Favorite track: Winston Eats Shit.
Poesy Rider
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Poesy Rider Mis à part de visuel pour lequel on jurerait que Hans Arp s'est chié dessus, on retrouve sur cet album les mêmes qualités évidentes que sur le précédent : Du John Zorn, du Patton, du Zu, du Panzerballet, le tout sous acide et amphétamines. La vie quoi ! Favorite track: Two Children Die in House Fire.
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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

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    CD digipack with 12 panel booklet, including lyrics. Buy the CD for 8 bucks or both CDs for 10 (see "duo bundle" in merch)!

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    (**International orders please include phone number with shipping address—required for customs forms now!)

    Buy the new album "Dogs at Play Among the Ruins" (CD digipack, 12 panel booklet with lyrics) with the debut album "Kids Eat Crayons is For Lovers" (CD jewel case, 6 panel booklet with lyrics) together for a special price. Ooh, very special!

    Includes unlimited streaming of Dogs at Play Among the Ruins via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 3 days

      $10 CAD

     

1.
Flouter 01:04
Fo tee wee! Fo tee wee! Is there still a sense of urgency? Bitter, better, butter, batter, be that we’re beings and being still matters. Would that we could trade meaning for joy. Boys and girls and girls and boys (and boys and girls and boys and boys and girls and girls and boys). How about it? Best to doubt it. Sing and shout it. Flim and flout it.
2.
Tell me everything you know about whales. Tell me everything you know about whales. What's your favourite kind of pie? It's not even ten o'clock and I already want to die. If I bear the seeds of my own destruction why should I even try? Sweet or savoury, rhubarb or beef, my mood changes in the wink of an eye. Every system is built to fail. Every system is built to fail. Every system is built to fail. Tell me everything you know about whales. Arf arf arf arf arf arf.
3.
Not everybody has the luxury of such misery, oh, misery, no. Not everybody has the luxury, but I have been so blessed, oh. Weeping in supermarkets, wailing in subway cars, breaking down at the laundromat, losing hope between meals. Like love, reason only cheapens it. This faith, love would only weaken it. I forget everything I’ve done unless it stares me in the face like a stranger in my house. I don’t learn from my mistakes, for I regret nothing more than anything else. Like love, reason only cheapens it. This faith, love would only weaken it. I’ve got time for killing, space for moping, and dirty money to burn. I don’t know from trouble baby, but I’m willing to learn. What can we do when every blessing is a curse? What can we do? Let’s make things worse. Not everybody has the luxury to claim validity for such stupidity and insipidity. Oh no. Not everybody has the luxury, but I have been so blessed. Oh yes.
4.
Fuck you. I’m a dog. I live and I’ll die like a dog. Roll around in my filth everyday, wag my tail with a shit-eating grin on my face. Fuck you. I'm a dog. Fuck you. I'm a dog. Fuck you.
5.
I could die here in this room, with this taste in my mouth, with this smell on my paws, this familiar dull ache in my genitals, open space behind my eyes.
6.
Carrot 03:40
Do you want tragedy, or do you want tragedy? I’ve got a gift to give, it’s better than virginity – take it from me. Do you want tragedy, or do you want fucking tragedy? I touched a sadness deep within her she didn’t know was there. I touched the same thing in myself once, with the fat end of a carrot, carrot, carrot, carrot, carrot, carrot. Carrot, carrot, carrot, carrot, carrot, carrot. Carrot, carrot, carrot, carrot, carrot, carrot. Carrot. Carrot. Carrot. Carrot. Carrot. Carrot.
7.
A city is alive but it has no soul. It’s a filthy and festering, dilating hole. Cancerous growth is its only goal. A city is alive but it has no soul. A city is alive but it has no soul. It feeds on the weak and will swallow you whole. Expansion is imperialism beyond our control. A city is alive but it has no soul.
8.
Kids know dick like you know me. I know you like a monkey knows a tree. Tree knows the dirt like a fish knows the sea. Sea swallows sailors same as you swallow me.
9.
Woo! Let’s go dancing! I don’t believe in fate, but I believe in dying. Do not agree to wait. There’s no food on your plate, but there’s meat in the fire. I don’t believe in fate. If we can’t go home again, then why don’t we go dancing, honey? Forget those unwise investments that burn up like paper money. Are we news, are we history? Are we bruised, are we blistering? Did you shit the bed? Then you best sleep on the ground. Are we news, are we history? Are we dancing shoes or calloused feet? Did you shit the bed? Then you best sleep on the ground. If you don’t brush your teeth they will rot inside your mouth. Did you shit the bed? Did you shit the bed? Hey baby, let’s make a date to just stop trying. We won’t agree to wait. I don’t believe in fate, but I believe in dying. I don’t believe in fate, I don’t believe in fate, I don’t believe in fate, I don’t believe in fate, I don’t believe in fate, I don’t believe in fate.
10.
11.
Condoms are for cucumbers. How about you, how about you? Whatever you had, now I have it too. The miracle of life can rip right through. What about ovaries, what about balls? Do you get tired of making love while making nothing at all? No more hiding from the moon. Stop spitting our unborn children down the toilet like baby girls down the Gaungfu River – call me old-fashioned, but that kind of spoils it. How about you, how about you? I'm having this baby. Are you having it too?
12.
Dogs in the womb. Dogs in the womb. Dogs in the womb. Dogs in the womb.
13.
Why do we always choose the dead over the living? Why do we always choose the dead over the living? Why do we always choose the dead over the living? Every song is a dirge, every flag is a pall. Every song is a dirge, every flag is a pall. There’s a colicky baby I hear down the hall, as we desperately dance at the funerary ball. Every song is a dirge, every flag is a pall. Who shall be saved but the lonely ghosts? Who shall be saved but the lonely ghosts? The obsequies will be the time for a toast. If memory serves as an obsequious host, then who shall be saved but the lonely ghosts? Why do we always choose the dead over the living? Why do we always choose the dead over the living? Why do we always choose revenge over forgiving? Why do we always choose the dead?

about

Download includes album cover in high resolution and a digital booklet with complete lyrics.

credits

released February 15, 2014

J. Phil Major: Lead vocals
Sam Davis: Alto saxophone
Josh Fuhrman: Tenor saxophone,
Angelo Zarra: Guitar
Dan Garmon: Piano
Scott Kingsley:Acoustic bass
D. W. Lee: Drums and backing vocals

Words and music by D. W. Lee

Produced by D. W. Lee
Recorded and mixed by Robert Langlois at Studio 270, Montréal
Mastered by Bernard Slobodian at Small Mastering Studio

Cover painting by Ashleigh Bartlett

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Kids Eat Crayons Montreal, Québec

The music of Kids Eat Crayons is thirteen mutated whales making love in a radioactive ocean. It is fried halloum with harissa eaten after your limbs have miraculously grown back. A party wound turned from scrape to gash. Raw pancake batter, a game of jenga. The warmth of a house fire. A lonely dog left on earth after the rapture, and the gradual opening of his third eye for the first time. ... more

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