The Weightlifters (2020)

 

 

 

 

 

Songs and Music: Adam McLaughlin
Recorded and mixed at home, Chicago, IL

Additional Musicians:

Ron Wikso: drums on tracks 4 and 8
Denis Atadan: gong on tracks 6 and 9
Carol Smith: hand claps

Mastered by Brad Blackwood at Euphonic Masters

Cover photo by Josh Howard, courtesy of Unsplash

 

Back Catalog

Fine.
I guess it’s just a matter of time
Say “I told you so”, I don’t mind
No, I would be delighted

Please
If you’re going to make a desperate scene,
Then you can count me out
Er… I mean, I would be delighted
Yeah, I would be delighted

‘Cause the room’s getting restless
They’re saying:

Give us something to listen to
‘Cause living on this back catalog is getting dull

Right
It hurts to say it’s over, but all right
Just let me quell the sorrows tonight
And I would be delighted

Please
If you want to make a desperate scene
Then go ahead and leave it to me
I would be delighted
Yeah, I would be delighted

And the room’s getting restless
They’re saying:

Give us something to listen to
‘Cause living on this back catalog is getting dull

Someone leave a light on for me

 

Zero Sum

This is the part that you'd like to forget
This is the part that has not happened yet
Just try to resist the allure of regret

An air of unrest with an ear to the wall
Lying in wait for a clarion call
But you’d beg for your life back in spite of it all?

Well, go figure it all into the zero sum
And hold ‘em right between your finger and thumb
To the best of your knowledge, is that something you want?
To the best of your knowledge

In search of a ghost with a sober embrace
To rattle you from your illustrious waste
But you can’t spit it out, ‘cause you still love the taste

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
I guess, if you say so
But what if you’re wrong?

Just go figure it all into the zero sum
And hold ‘em right between your finger and thumb
To the best of your knowledge, is that something you want?
To the best of your knowledge

For such a biblical coward, you’ve sure got some nerve!

Go figure it all into the zero sum
And hold ‘em right between your finger and thumb
To the best of your knowledge, is that something you want?

Go figure it all into the zero sum
Figure it all into the zero sum

 

Second Skin

It's so familiar
It feels just like a second skin,
A coronation of the same old soul-sucking king

New and wrecked intersect
In summary - 

Forget what you know about flesh and bone
Don’t get thrown by the well-preserved
If you could see us now decomposed
Forget what you know about flesh and bone

It’s so dramatic - the grand maneuvers that we make
To strike the matches
To burn the ashes for burning’s sake

But fuel’s required
It’s all smoke, no fire
And suddenly - 

Forget what you know about flesh and bone
Don’t get thrown by the well-preserved
If you could see us now decomposed
Forget what you know about flesh and bone

It’s so familiar

Well, there’ve been triumphs
(I’ll try and think of some)
But often times, it’s like you’re looking through someone
Look what we have done

Forget what you know about flesh and bone

It’s so familiar

 

Grace Gone Missing

When the early morning deals the sting
You’ll try to figure it out
Got to figure it out

When the desperation’s crippling
You’ll want to figure it out
Got to figure it out

Well, common sense applied,
And it’s not so hard to realize

It’s Grace gone missing again
Disappearing without a trace
Just like Kindness in the first place

Thanks to the poor fellas
Who got a taste of pride
And want to keep it alive

Thanks to the soul sellers
They’re the reckless kind
They’ve got a one track mind

Well, move the veil aside
And it’s not so hard to recognize

It’s Grace gone missing again
Disappearing without a trace
Just like Kindness in the first place

And you don’t know what you’ve been missing
While you’ve been missing!

When the early morning deals the sting
You’ll try to figure it out
Got to figure it out

When the desperation’s crippling
You’ll want to figure it out
Got to figure it out

Well, it should come as no surprise
Yeah, it’s not so hard to realize

It’s Grace gone missing again
Disappearing without a trace
Just like Kindness in the first place
Just like Patience in the first place
Just like Tolerance in the first place
Just like Respect in the first place
Just like Sympathy in the first place
Just like Empathy in the first place
Just like Tenderness in the first place

 

Cold War

I want to give you signs, but you don't read minds
And you made it clear that you don’t

Or say something to break the quiet
That you can’t deny, we’ve been holding dear
That’s for sure

Instead we take further action
To keep ourselves from harm

Both sides armed

The general takes his tea in the armory
Holds a wait-and-see stance and barks orders at toy soldiers
The serenade sets his ghost brigade on the march

They advance in all directions
But no one seems alarmed

Both sides armed

Laying low sucks the life out real slow
Meanwhile the tanks roll by

Battling mixed emotions
And wild notions
We go through motions

 

Life and Death (That's All)

Won't you take this rain from my window
I want to feel the warmth of a southern breeze blow
And if I get lost somewhere along the way
Maybe that’s a good way to go

I need to hear my wheels on the gravel
I’ve been chewing on a poison apple
And if I come off like it doesn’t matter

It’s life and death, that’s all

I don’t have the grace to possess such sorrow
I’ve been selling off all I had borrowed
I hope there won’t be rain when I wake tomorrow

It’s life and death, that’s all

Well, I don’t want to boast
I don’t want to be forward
But I’ve got a touch as cold as snow

And aren’t I the one who created my own silver-plated prison cell?
I should say so (yup)!

I’ve been losing time to indecision
And I can’t go on in this condition
So I think it bears a little repetition

It’s life and death, that’s all

 

Star

Pale Star, as fine as you are,
It’s pitch-black sky you’re meant to occupy
And so am I

Day after night (as dark as you like)
The sun obliterates you

But you don’t feel anything, do you?
It doesn’t mean anything to you
It doesn’t mean anything

And Satellite, strung out on starlight
A ghostly form that’s hard to classify
And no one tries

You don’t need anything, do you?
It doesn’t mean anything to you
It doesn’t mean anything

When broken light catches you whole
You’re not the kind to have it to hold
Making me believe now
We’re thick as thieves now

Sad Star, as charmed as you are
It’s pitch-black sky you’re meant to occupy
Well, so am I

 

First in Line (If You Want a Riot)

Into the lull, we move to the sound of losing ground,
And it’s all that I can do to look the other way

Into the fray, it’s them vs. us
But why make a fuss
Don’t make a fuss

If you want a riot, then you are the first in line
If you want a riot

Interstellar dust buries us waist-high
Turns into mud
Fear is a flood, swelling
It loves the rain

Killing the suspense,
Harmony clears her throat and assents
In my defense
In my defense

If you want a riot, then you are the first in line
If you want a riot…

Get it out of your system
I know folly’s best wild
But get it out of your system
You are not a child!

If you want a riot, then you are the first in line

And we are

 

Under the Surface

Take what you need to sustain
Through the familiar refrain
I guess you’re wondering…

Why try?

When it seems like only the savage survive
Fueled by the perception of purpose denied
And you better know, it’s not in your head
History says...

It sleeps under the surface
’Til the moment is right
To coil up and strike

Brace up to face the collapse
Sure to seduce the synapse
With a dose that’s designed for impact

So why try?

When it seems like only the savage survive
You and I make a case for the warmth of denial
But you better know, it’s not in our heads
It’s just like we said

It sleeps under the surface
’Til the moment is right
To coil up and strike

So what’s to decide?
It’s settled then
What’s to deny?
It’s settled then
Rise and shine!

 

St. Paul (2015)

  

Songs and Music: Adam McLaughlin, except track 2: traditional, arrangement by Adam McLaughlin

Recorded and mixed at home, Chicago, IL and Takoma Park, MD

Mastered by Brad Blackwood at Euphonic Masters

 

High Drama

It's time, finally, to let it all ride
with cynical sights set upon the prize
of full pockets in minimal time
the pitiful whines ascending to the skies

in high drama
It's high drama

Fate's got a malevolent side,
a deliberate stride
bringing things to view -
it's true!
And I've got to level with you
it's never too soon
to cash your chips and side with high drama

It's high drama

It's about fucking time
that you came to your senses
So sorry that you took such a hard line
and drew down your defenses -
so naïve and brash,
but you learned your lesson

Sore loser in a bitter exchange
for a serious name - The Honorable So and So
who climbed to such a perilous height
Well, come on down tonight
and languish in the glow

of high drama
It's high drama

It's about fucking time

 

Man of Constant Sorrow

(traditional, arrangement AM)

I am a man of constant sorrow
I've seen trouble all my days
I'll say goodbye to Colorado
where I was born and partly raised

Through this whole world I'm bound to ramble
through ice and snow, sleet and rain
I'm going to ride that northern railroad
Perhaps I'll die upon that train

I know your friends think I'm a stranger
a face you'll never see no more
But I promise you my darlin
I'll meet you on that golden shore

I'm going back to Colorado
back where I started from
And you can lay me in the valley
to rest beneath the morning sun

 

No Breakthrough

Ever want to cave in
when push comes to shove,
to trade the cradle of
for the decline of everything
along the classic curve?
Well you've got a lot of nerve!

'Cause you know that it takes a toll
to break the mold
This is no true breakthrough
and you've got a lot of nerve
You've got a lot of nerve

OK, the punks have set us up
So much for etiquette
but it's no cause to call it quits
How about a courtesy shrug
for those you used to serve
You've got a lot of nerve!

(chorus)

Acquiescence... you've got a lot of nerve

 

She's a Storm Cloud

She's a storm cloud
pleased as punch with the washout
methodical like a system

She's the holdout
for the fall of the safehouse
seasonal like a twister

And then suddenly
and then suddenly
the worst is over

And the suddenly
the sun indeed
illuminates the whole world

She'll chase the soul south
and shake the salt into the cracked mouth
And here's the thing:
she's insisting...

that our love defines love,
our love defines love

 

Landslide

Let's drink to the wasted and the worn
There's a place sweet and warm,
a retreat for vacant forms

Feeling bad has never felt so good
or been so misunderstood
by the ancient brotherhood
who claims it's wrong to dwell on what has passed

Well wrong is going to win outright in a landslide tonight
Wrong is going to win outright in a landslide

Let's leave well enough in tatters
Let the pale gloom-junkies sing
and dismantle everything

The minor third is all that matters -
imperfection shimmering
not resolving anything

I suppose it's wrong to yield without reserve

Wrong is going to win outright in a landslide tonight
Wrong is going to win outright in a landslide

Stop and take a good look around
All the survivors have been found
so if you feel like breaking down
it's alright

Wrong is going to win outright in a landslide tonight
Wrong is going to win outright in a landslide

 

O Dissension

Stop now
Turn around
You've got a weak heart
and a quick start

There's no doubt
that up 'til now
you've had a free ride
and a soft side

Well stop.
Begin.

O dissension, O dissension
Begin.

Disguised,
industrialized,
and milksweet
with a silk cheek

Excuse the absolutes
but they're prescribed this time

So stop.
Begin.

Well the shakes
and the muscle aches
and pain
can't turn the page
on the fearless age

Stop now
In or out?
You've got to decide

Begin.

 

Loss

You've got a lot to say about us
And it sounds so smart, so surely from the heart

You've got a lot to say about us,
effect and cause of all the things you've lost
to the solitude
that's holding you...

in service to loss
Best choose the shallows
until you're sick and tired of loss

You've got a lot to say about us
deflecting fault for once and then for all

(You've got a lot to say about us)
And O, the mounting cost
of all the things you've lost
'cause you wanted to
You wanted to

In service to loss
Best choose the shallows
until you're sick and tired of loss

 

O My Stars  (2008)

Songs and Music: Adam McLaughlin
Recorded and mixed at home, Chicago, IL

Additional Musicians:

Ron Wikso: drums
Carol Smith: hand claps, cowbell

Mastered by Brad Blackwood at Euphonic Masters

Art design by Renee Fernandez 


Perfect

Lull me awake slowly
I don't want the moment to pass
before I am through keeping tabs on every lapse

It's the greatest mistake to settle for less than a respectable shake,
a workable break,
a chance to be perfect

The thinnest of doubts are leaving the thick of the moment behind
Arguing mood and waiting for stars to align

Foolish to think that all that's worth finding is lost in a blink,
so every instinct needs to be perfect

But in fact, I'll be betting it all
with better-than-even odds of a fall

It's the greatest escape,
trailing off in a thick, spiral decay
And I'm hot for the chase
I'm hot for the chase

 

Bygones

Release!
O, let it all go
If you can't even it up,
then at least let bygones be bygones

Shape up
Don't let us all down
If you think you've had enough...
well I guess that's it in a nutshell
Yeah, I guess that's it

And who better? Who? I'd love to know
Who better than I to know?

The rain won't remember your name
It drives itself into the ground
And it's gone as soon as the mud dries

But you'll still be hanging around
Taking possession of things that you didn't want in the first place

And who better? Who? I'd love to know
Who better than I to know?

It soaks into the bone
Memory's got a price though
Everything's got a price

And who better? Who? I'd love to know
Who better than I to know?
Who better?

 

Belle of the Wrecking Ball

It was cold, honey
So controlled
Hey sister can you spare a lie,
an airtight alibi

On a lark,
you twist until it comes apart,
heat until it turns to smoke,
then deliver the joke

But maybe it's too late for the punchline
Don't you know that timing is everything

There she goes
She's the queen of the free fall / to shatter a lost cause
The belle of the wrecking ball
There she goes

It was strong,
impervious and fixed
and I wore it like a sitting duck
And then you struck

Stripped to bone
Naked as a stone
I remember back when we were kids,

thinking ghosts could only haunt from the outside
But now we've got it all figured out

[chorus]

And I've got scars
Yeah I've got scars
to prove that a phantom can really bleed

 

To Be a Killer

So what
It's nothing personal
I've got a mind to take a lifeless life

If my resolve is not invincible,
give me a shove
until this cruel fit fits like a glove

Absurdity sells wholesale
And I've been waiting it out for insights into the rationale

I can't be blamed
for putting misery out of its name
for supplying heat to the flame

Remedies flow through bloodstreams
But the cure is more violent then the disease

To be a killer,
you've got to pull the trigger,
and find something bigger

So steady the aim and be cold
The insignificance of the mark should soften the blow

To be a killer,
you've got to pull the trigger,
and find something bigger

 

Battlesong

If you don't mind,
maybe you might try to fight back,
'cause I'm swinging and landing

The scale has tipped
The counterweight's slipped,
and I'm not holding back

So if you don't mind (maybe you don't)
Maybe you won't mind (maybe you won't)
Maybe you won't

Battlesong sounds flawed
'cause one of us will and one of us won't

If you've got heart,
you think you might start to fend off this charge,
show what you're made of?

'Cause hollow threats,
thick with regrets
are an anemic defense

So if you don't mind (maybe you don't)
Maybe you won't mind (maybe you won't)
Maybe you won't

Battlesong sounds flawed
'cause one of us will and one of us won't

 

Whys and What Fors

I don't know the half of what to say
I don't know the trick to being ok
All I know is I've got to face the truth

Non-stop flights and satellites
Fooling us to think that distance is slight
All I know is I've got to face the truth

Got a picture
when you were in love with the lens
Got a picture
Both of us were younger then

Momentum just happens
A little at a time, and then all at once
I don't know the whys and what fors

The process is designed to divide
But fear and hope conspire to keep us alive,
arranging with the band to play our song

[chorus]

And maybe they'll play the chorus again
Maybe they'll take it from the top again
I think so

[chorus]

 

In The End

I'll leave it all, by god
A consequence of the thought
that in the end we all know what we're not
I'll leave it all, by god

I'll set it all on fire
A funeral for the grind
'Cause in the end it's a fool's valentine
I'll set it all on fire

Well it's a shame how promise fades
and tomorrow feels (just) like today
But in the end we're going to change
and start anew yeah,
and start anew

(repeat)

O my stars, my stars
The wonder of it all
O my stars
It's a wonder we resist so hard

I'll leave it all, by god
If you believe me or not
As to the aim, I recall; I forgot
I'll leave it all, by god 


Last of the Sunday Drivers  (2007) 

Songs and Music: Adam McLaughlin
Recorded and mixed at home, Chicago, IL

Additional Musicians:

Ron Wikso: drums on tracks 1, 2, 4, 5
Jim McCarty: drums on track 3
Anthony Lee Rogers: strings on track 6
Carol Smith: electric guitar on track 2, hand claps

Mastered by Brad Blackwood at Euphonic Masters

 

Undefined

I could be the word - meaning inexact, backflipping into free verse. I could be the word. You could be the light bleeding through the half-cracked lids of undeserving eyes. You could be the light. Hey, gravity works on me; it's undenied. Hey, sensation overcomes me; it's undefined. I could be the sky - sipping flight in v-formation 'til I'm satisfied. I could be the sky. You could be the earth twisting through the heavens milking stars for all they're worth; (bled for all they're worth). Hey, gravity works on me; it's undenied. Hey, sensation overcomes me; it's undefined... and constant as the speed of light... and impossible to quiet.

 

Low

She's low, and she loves what she loves. And the faithful will let her lead them to the bottom. But you don't mind; it happens all the time. You'll break your fall, grateful for the high. You need it, but you don't know why you need what you need. The tender have seen better days. And the seasick are getting battered by the waves. But you don't mind; it happens all the time. You'll crash ashore salty-wet and find you need it, but you don't know why you need what you need. Oh, why don't you know the feeling in your heart is hollow, while you're drying in the moonlight glow. She's low, and she loves what she loves.

 

Last of the Sunday Drivers

I've just got a hunch Serenity is getting bored. Need to settle down. Reason's racing off at breakneck speed. Need to settle down. Everybody knows a taste is a lethal dose. Say goodbye to the last of the sunday drivers. Comfort is chemical, and I've got the shakes. I quit cold-turkey. I guess I lost faith in its antiquated design. The boss has been deposed. The offices are closed. Say goodbye to the last of the sunday drivers. You almost don't see it coming. Riding heavy on the brakes, we idle through the wasteland that we're entitled to. Well I'm fucking up the deal. I'm sober at the wheel. Say goodbye to the last of the sunday drivers.

 

Weightless and Easy

Idols trade in looks, but don't forget the hooks. Floating figurines - weightless and easy, it seems. The actor's breaking bones with musty tones in scales of economy - a big-ticket trick to fetch a pretty penny. Desparate to be weightless and easy are we. But you'd rather complicate it, overstate it, and make it hard... harder than misery - make it large... larger than history. Though it's light, simplicity's bleeding, and I've got a feeling that you'll make it hard. The wheelers dealing art in the parking lot are framing it for free. (Copies of fakes from the 80's). Desparate to be weightless and easy are we. But you'd rather decorate it, overstate it, and make it hard... harder than misery - make it large... larger than history. Though it's light, simplicity's bleeding, and I've got a feeling that you'll make it hard.

 

September

Baby don't you blink. It's faster than you think - full of flash and things you don't get over. Indulge me for a while; we're stepping out in style. Quick before this fickle flame is smothered. Quick before, in time, it is discovered: I am September, and I need your gentle June to make me feel better. And I need your hot July to warm me. November is a bore - vintage and obscure, and heavy as heartbreak. Baby don't you weep; nothing's ours to keep. Underneath the sun color is faded. Underneath its glow we are mutated. I am September, and I need your gentle June to make me feel better. And I need your hot July to warm me. Figure it out: this is our reckoning. Haven't we already wasted enough time? Jesus Christ! I am September, and I need your gentle June to make me feel better. And I need your hot July to warm me.

 

Oblivion Shines

...and as for the day, it flies, smothered in haze, implies memory lies; leave the gray ones behind. Rest for the weary past will lighten the load at last and pardon our wrongs. Let the devils be gone. But I know you haven't lost anything. It's all trapped in the thickness of things. Dreams cover your eyes, and oblivion shines. And as for the leaves, they turn. Fortunate scenes, they've burned, fickle but fine, into the back of your mind. And you'll find it doesn't cost anything to exile lovers of suffering and clean-sweep the landmines. Let oblivion shine. And the best we can hope is to cast off our sorrow and to sleep calm and sure through the wilderness call and infinite fall. And when you awake you'll find liberty waits in line to welcome you into a new day beginning. And you'll know you haven't lost anything. It's all trapped in the thickness of things. Dreams cover your eyes, and oblivion shines...