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Palisades

by Fightboat

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    our first album "Palisades" on CD complete with liner notes

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1.
Party Song 03:52
Made a Pulp reference but nobody laughed. Get the sudden feeling I'm at a party I shouldn't be at. Don't know why I rang the doorbell expecting the best. I see you burn him with a cigarette as his grim descends and comes back again. Feeling like I shouldn't have come, to see you entwined with your new one. At this party, I'm like a ghost among men. Float through the room without a care. Maybe I'll stand up and shake your hand; or, offer a smile so sincere. The worst part of staying friends, is seeing you at every party since. You lean in closer on the floor, whisper something in my ear, "I can't stand them without a beer", I'll drink to that, if I even drink at all. Thought I find peace on the balcony, just to hear stories of sexual escapades. Deafening conversations in brash tones, "somebody call my number, I've lost my phone". Look out the window at the snow. Last time I show up to a party alone. GO HOME- people are pushing by, walking off into the night. No one ever says goodbye.
2.
I'll find reason for an ambulance. New York suckin' on it's last romance. All I know this their last chance, can't see your face, all I see is lights. Maybe they'll help us through the night. No place else we'd rather be! No way that I'll ever see, who it is that won't let me be. And maybe I'll let you see, what is it that isn't right with ME. Two times a week got to be too much, even if one can't remember lunch. Even if it's just a regular touch. Hope I won't have to settle the punch. Took my hand as we tried to dance. But words were elusive to the musical trance. And you started to fade, and so did I. Averted from my eye...
3.
Liver-Pool 03:36
She ripped me up til there was nothing left inside. I'm like a swimming pool left to freeze in cold December . Filled with leaves, no one remembers my name. Liver pool, liver pool my intentions are so cruel. I surrender unto you. Cold Autumn days swimming my life away to the month of May looking for a brighter day and I found you. She tore me up, she walked across to the other side, across the waves of the crashing tide. Left me out of my mind. I'm insane
4.
Heard your back again, stories all the same. Heard you don't know his name, you said they're all the same. You detail your histories, they've always been boring. I could care less, of what was stimulating. Hardcore brownout, he left coffee outside your door. You woke up stinging, clothes sticking to the floor. You were late again, sickly odor stains your skin. All you can do is spin. Asleep in your own FUCKING SPIT. Said you couldn't sleep, I thought of your sheets, torn and frayed. It ends wither her, washed up on your shore. Softcore snow-in, she left a note upon your door. And in your hallway, she still feels sore. Outside your door, you can't stop spinning.
5.
Tom's River 03:32
I was in your basement where the floors were cold cement. Tried to light a cigarette so you could speak how you meant. That summer was well spent. Fox news was our only friend, it was how we paid the rent. Sitting in the Liverpool you turned and broke your neck. And I'm stuck in a whirlpool full of things you never said and I gotta get out of here. There's no way I'm not dead. You fought with your husband I'd sit upstairs and watch, he'd drive back to the city and you would light a match. Sitting on the back porch picking splinters out my toes you put your arms around my neck and called me your whole world. She ran away.
6.
She's walking, she's walking with her head held high. She's got a sensual smile, so ugly, so vile. She'll reel you in and toss you in the bin with your nervous grin you're falling in again. I'm falling, I'm falling, I'm falling in again. I wish I could see that she's an enemy, but when she opens her eyes I always fail to realize that she's a selfish cynic, mental clinic, love prosthetic...
7.
During the summer, of getting to know us better, I thought I was the best 17 year old ever. Thrown on Pinkerton, to feel better, after seeing you, in your "Autumn Sweater". Once you move onto your next one, I disappear into my record collection. Marquee Moon to Closer to Spiderland, Jeff Mangnum singing of concentration camps. Armed Forces, Look Sharp!, Jens Lekman, again and again and again and again. Lights of Ocean Parkway, always seemed to guide the way, way through the rain; the way back to your place. I slipped, because the "Blankets Were the Stairs"! And I was hoping, someone would care, but who could hear me buried beneath the sand? I don't know why, it hit me so hard. Watching you with your back turned, leaving the park. Some nights I stare at my ceiling, I wonder where you've been. You'll always be my hero and I hope to see you again. Fear of loathing in New York, small body, big city. Far from the lights of Ocean Parkway, my feet stand on the window ledge of opportunity. Our future doesn't involve the traffic of Prospect Expressway, my fake plastic love, my everything. My Emergency & I, you'd be my "Mayfly". So I'll float over the skyline, 'till I see the sunrise in your eyes. Let's all do the "Fillmore Jive", maybe I'll sleep tonight.
8.
Bowery 03:55
New York is cold and the bicycles never stop this Long Island melody will rest on a pigeon's beak you know, we're buried in the snow. Don't send me to the Bowery because I've got sores on my feet and it's been a while since I had something to eat. That don't mean I'll lie down with my blanket in the snow. Bowery, Bowery, the streets that smell of defeat. Bowery, Bowery, the latex smell of everything I eat, ya know, ya haunt me everywhere I go. I'm a person just like you, never had anything to do. Sure wish that had been me back in 1982. I was too busy buying glue to make my nose turn blue. I'm fascinating, fascinating, a true blue boy why don't you come and save me? Ya know, I'm only dead and buried in the snow.
9.
Filthy River 05:45
Even if I wasn't there, I'd be the last one to care. And everybody, everybody just stares, The walk to the subway, is thirty minutes that are great. I wish I could spend forever on this train. Don't think my neighborhood knows my face, I gotta case of frequent idleness. I'll laugh at myself, when I'm looking for sex. It's easy to see I'll never be Patrick Stickles or Elliot Smith. Long walks home, are the best times of my life; when my living underwater, really comes to light. In an empty room, beating my chest, they don't like uncomfortable truths that spill from your head. So if you'd like to see me cry, play "Trouble Will Find Me" at the river tonight. Some kid stares at Manhattan from the Carroll Street Bridge, thinks, "one day, something's got to give". So he'll count on his fingers, ten reasons to live. Take my subtleties out of context, then what's left? I'm tired of navigating landscapes of teen aged secrets. I live by a filthy river, I swim in it day by day. The river knows my name. The river knows my pain. I'm sick of my body, my mind, my same old boring stories. Alone.

about

Benjamin Verde - Drums/Vocals
Patrick Preziosi - Keyboard/Vocals/Trombone
Ryan Wu - Guitar
Aaron Roman - Bass

Michael Waxman Saxophone on “Party Song” and “Liver-Pool”
Danny Carlson: Backing vocals on “Filthy River”

credits

released February 20, 2015

Recorded and produced by Nick Grasso
Poem at the end of “Filthy River”: “Filthy River” by Joe Weil, from The Plumber’s Apprentice
All lyrics by Ben (3,5,6,8) and Patrick (1,2,4,7,9)
Cover art by Josue Lopez
We’d like to thank Nick, Michael, Rachel, Josue, John, Danny, Matt, Kevin, our parents, Frank, Sophie, Joe Weil, and all of those who listen, whoever you may be.

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Fightboat Brooklyn, New York

indie punk nerds from ny


for booking and general inquries:
fightboatofficial@gmail.com

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