The Reason to Get Up in the Morning

by Analgesin

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about

"The voice so filled with nostalgia that you could almost see the memories floating through the blue smoke, memories not only of music and joy and youth, but perhaps, of dreams. They listened to the music, each hearing it in his own way, feeling relaxed and a part of the music, a part of each other, and almost a part of the world."

“There's a sorrow and pain in everyone's life, but every now and then there's a ray of light that melts the loneliness in your heart and brings comfort like hot soup and a soft bed.”

“Life was not longer something to endure, but to live."

this album is the culmination of me finally getting over my cynicism, and opening myself up to a world of wonders, death, joy, mental tricks, and affection. thank you to anyone who helped me get there, this is what it sounds like. depression and cynicism be damned, take this minor 3rd and leave me alone. henry was right, i had some love to feed the birds, but it took this sound to get there. sleep well. go for a walk. meet someone nice. say what you mean. write it down. make something of yr mind's awful tricks.

credits

released May 15, 2016

brendan macbrayne- everything musical
reigh erkinspay- everything pictorial

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Blue Mist Bands Biddeford, Maine

Home of Hyosis, Analgesin, Sensory Deprivation, Chester Sidewalks, and plenty more. Enjoy the noises...

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Track Name: Anodyne
She taught no to you. A different color. A different pallet. Or so yr cognition says. What makes abuse? Is it ever justified? Just wanted to be the best mother she could. Representing you. Yr father too. Did you engage her? We all ended the same.
Track Name: A Quick Descent
Standing atop the once populated, now desolate field. Staring down there. No longer full of life. All wounds heal with age. But, no one speaks of the ones that form with age. Did I do all I could? Mortality is a concept only grasped with age. The dreadful ticking clock, that no one hears in their youth. Time is the only real thing that expires. Quicker than we would like. But, slow enough to miss. Moving from 2 to 3. 3 to 4. Life to death. War to peace. What goes up must come down. Is there a reason?
Track Name: Julia in G
Wandering the hallways. Pondering the one objective. Happiness is only real when it is shared.
Examining my past expressions. Listening for a theme. One person constantly comes into play.
Dayglo where did you go? What did you do for me? Why am I still a thought? Why was I the last to know? My motivation has run away. But, still I can't. Writing sad words from a room. Eating away my own mind. Masochism in effect. Catharsis only lasts these seconds. But, a light is desirable. To shine away the strain. Topic of many songs. Cloaked in allegory. Losing its subtlety. But, I can't bring myself to ask. Maybe this is my way. If you ever heard it. I don't want anything. Or no, I just want closure. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh uuuuuuuuuuuuuuUUUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Track Name: Suffer Foreign Children
Weaving words together over another minor 3rd. Cliche sad melodies with some dissonant wordplay. They're still overseen by the men. Still clickbait populates our trough. Our queen still loiters. Still just statistics. Much has changed since the white noise. Names, friends, and habits. More issues to view from the bench. Did you ever want them back? How many names do you know? Deborah, Mary, Gloria, Rhoda, Naomi, and 173 more. We can all share these names. Is it still too far away? Seeds of nothing. Stuck below. Watch the horror. Bring back this. Printed fine. Unnamed. Herd effort. Overseen.
Track Name: The Youth Who Dream Homicide
This river never seems to end. Apparently there's supplies. A mile downstream. But, there is no pretty color to guide me. The light at the end of the tunnel is only a train Could I jump on? Or embrace the alloy. The constantly ticking clock of youth to infirmity. We gain so much freedom. But, lose so many fighters. It's only looking from the hill, that we see how high we climbed. As tired as we now are, at least we made the passage. Wallowing in fear brings little payoff. It took a monk to explain. But, once you're dead, you're fucking dead. Brendan Nixon is fucking dead. It happened eventually. Sorry for my vulgarity. But, Sam said it first. I still have time to grow. But, Mark said it better. The years of tag behind me. The years of segregation ahead. But hey, it can't be all bad. I made it through 16 of these. Deprived my senses. Swallowed the analgesic.
Track Name: A Jig for the Eons
Wading through bodies of cars. Counting down the miles. Looking at the names of homes. Trials of the mind. Walking through yr head. No way to contact. Wish for you to remember me. Expressed through silly love songs. Julia isn't a thought anymore. Took a sad night to open my eyes. Had the best sleep in eons. But, now I'm taken. Fell asleep to Mark's word. My poetry to protect me. Wrote this while talking to you. Am I still the boy who screams? Prudence didn't pay. But, folly can't buy happiness. At least now I share it. But, who is the boy singing? What emotion even is this? I can no longer lust. But, I still can't love? God knows I can't hate. Thank you.