Get all 6 Minor Characters releases available on Bandcamp and save 20%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of We Can't Be Wrong, Nola, Pimps of Freedom (Whores of D.C.), Voir Dire, Heal Me, Healing Times, and Minor Characters.
1. |
Nola
03:48
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As the back roads came undone
I am failing as your son
To the treetop napping sun
I am failing as your son
Don’t forgive me if I go
I am leery of Chicago
If your bed’s cold down by your toes
I got weary of Chicago
I’m on my way to New Orleans
I’ve been thinking about heaven today.
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2. |
Memphis
06:25
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Heard you got lucky, came into some money
New York City, you think, is the place you’ll be heard
All my songs come before you, they’re just out to get you
I know it ‘cause you screamed from a phone in LA
My stomach is ulcered, let’s go play some shit shows
Let’s drive down to Memphis and weep at his grave
When you point to a teardrop and ask why I’m laughing
You know it, I told you, we’ve done this before
And you pulled at my arm and I spilled my Huge Ass Beer
I let out a violent cry
With the soft, shitty blues intertwining the twilight
You showed me where Jeff Buckley died
The Grey Goose is leavin’ you, Memphis is killin’ you
The racism, you say, is “like, so over the top.”
But we’re good for an hour, make love for an hour
Then I say something sexist, I’m kicked to the curb
Where people take pictures of Elvis’ picture
I vow to be famous, I’ll sell my soul
Down by the Mud River, or to a cabin in Wisconsin
To Wilco’s Chicago, or this Tennessee moon
So we sat in a car making closer decisions
To leavin’ things just how they are
And in the spirit of Elvis’ gravesite beside us
Left Graceland by car and by plane
Are you okay now? The worst part is over
But I hear painkillers and wine in your throat!
While a girl from some website self loathes around my place
The cell phone destroyed us, let’s make shit by hand
You hate all music, I’m over-exaggerate
I hope that I open for you one day
‘cause your favorite folk singer is my favorite folk singer
You live in his voice, I live in him too.
You live in his voice, I live in him too.
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3. |
Glory Days
03:16
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These my glory days
Just a glossy glaze
These my drinkin’ days
It’s just an endless phase
How do we describe our future from inside of this hole?
Down the sun-blazed road, the spangled stripper pole down America’s soul
The infinite malaise, were those my glory days that I just pissed away?
You, my youth abound
Caught in a head-locked town
Let me age in peace
Let me try to sleep
How do I describe the glory stuck inside of my eyes?
The principal of pride, the panicked poltergeist ties the president’s ties
I’m down the sun-blazed road, the spangled strangle hold on America’s soul
The infinite malaise, were those my glory days that I just pissed away?
Your glory days ain’t my glory days.
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4. |
Kamakura!
03:36
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I am cultured, I am modern, I am Bannon’s enemy
His nose is red, his eyes are black, his skin’s a sickly sea-foam green
I drive a stupid Hybrid that is eating me alive
So I’m on a plane to Tokyo, I’m taking your advice:
I’m living like a monk
But secretly just drunk
And screaming like a punk for now
I try out for indie rock bands in Shinjuku, out of key
Tell them I’m the saddest singer east of the Mississippi
They thought I was from Brooklyn so they booked a bunch of shows
Up in Shimokitizawa where the cool kids tend to go
So I played some Panda Bear
And I sang some Bon Iver
And then I start to cry up there
I am east of Eden, you are on my mind
I am east of people foaming all the time
The impermanence was perfect in my mind
Now it’s gone
And I just want the Western World to believe again
I swear it was a fluke! I really can handle my shit
But Kazu said to take the weekend and go rest my soul a bit
Slip and slide in Tsukiji Market, bow my head and make a fist
I was thinking of Steve Bannon and I almost slit my wrist
With a bamboo chopstick
The blood of forty thousand fish at my feet
I go down to Kamakura to emerge myself a king
Kneeling down in ancient temples but I do not feel a thing
I decide to fly on home and kiss the soil when I land
But I get locked inside the airport on some Asian travel band
Or a Buddhist travel ban
Or some racist travel band
And I’m locked inside Kamakura, Japan!
I am east of Eden, you are on my mind
I am east of people foaming all the time
The impermanence was perfect in my mind
Now it’s gone
And I just want the western world to believe again.
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5. |
I'm In A Band
03:05
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I’m in a band
Wash-out all those vocals, slap some nasty delay ‘cause
I’m in a band
Let’s get booked by billions and cut out all the heart from all the art we make, yeah.
I’m American
Watch me stoop so low, tele-fascism in slo mo
I’m American
And everyone treads on me
No one better breathe near me who’s not like me, boy.
Let’s bleed out in a car and piss out PBR
I guess I’ll just pretend
That I’m American
I never follow facts, just the alternative facts that
I’m in band, we just got picked by JagJag
‘cause we don’t play no solos in the art we make, right?
Let’s make a little bet we’ll go deep into debt
But fuck it it’s just debt
I so really believe it’s worth the wait
To finally understand right now why:
I don’t wanna be in a band no more
I don’t wanna feel so scared no more
I can’t be an American no more.
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6. |
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I’m entertained
She’s entertained
The governor is a pop star
And we’re entertained by the
Pimps of Freedom pissin’ history
Whores of D.C., we’re bended on our knees
Television, a nation turns its eyes to you
Come FBI
C’mon CIA
Can’t stop the pop governor
We’re too entertained by the
Pimps of Freedom, pissin’ history
Whores of D.C., we’re bended on our knees
Richard Nixon, when we gonna learn?
Pimps of Freedom, pissin’ history
Whores of D.C. got rugburns on your knees
Your wicked vision, a generation turns on you once again.
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7. |
Canvas Kid
07:58
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An ironic autograph for my bully from middle school
At a suburban bar where I tend to keep clandestine faith
Bully: “Hey, bro, remember when you’d sing Nirvana songs all day?
You were a superstar. That’s why I screwed your sister, dude.”
Me: “Well, now I teach children’s songs to kids full of future first class cash.
I have a therapist and a Roth IRA, my God.”
Swipe me some sympathy, the internet really messed me up
As did the Great Recession, still have to beg for steady work
Me: “I have a girlfriend now. She’s like a patient patron saint.
She lives in Silver Lake, but moving here ‘cause I’m afraid
Of southern California and actin’ too cool
In retrospect I shoulda made some grand gesture
Like drive out there and declare my clinical ulcer
Dissolved with the absolve of my cynical nature but some don’t’ change
How Midwest of me.”
Now we live modestly and she cooks my vegan food from scratch
Right off the boulevard, but like a good Catholic, still hung up
Bully: “I’m seriously sorry, man, for beating you senseless at the pool.
I was a jealous boy, and you had so much to give the world.”
Me: “Well I got, like, nothin’ now if you wanna take another swing.
Remember in middle school? You guys would call me Canvas Kid?
I was always wipin’ out on those wrestling mats
On second thought I wish I still was that resilient
I’ve tried to say things my band said I had an answer
Now threats to sue, I hope I get throat cancer
Then I could quit- nobody can blame you for cancer-
Well, look at me now.
I’m drunk as hell.”
If some kind of fantasy makes its home
I’m a middle class tragedy rabid with foam
If anything shadowy make its home
I’m drinking class majesty please drive me home
If anything shadowy makes its home
I’ll survive.
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8. |
Soviet Girlfriend
03:38
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Have you seen my soviet girlfriend?
Have you seen my subservient wife?
Hey Ivanka, who’s side is your daddy on?
Will you be my Millennial wife?
Tear this fucker down.
Have you seen my Millennial girlfriend?
Have you seen my Millennial wife?
Hey Ivanka, I got you on Kompromat, yeah Kompromat (that’s a new word)
Vodka-infused Millennial strife
Bring the bloodhounds round.
Tear this fucker down.
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9. |
I'm Going Places
06:06
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So if my math is right I should be dead
A surge of liquid brings my heart to my breath
Poured my blood out to see if you’d come quick
Whored my band out but could not turn the trick
Fought through the wounds of a silent treatment day
I’m just a toss, just a friend that gets phased out
Then somebody said:
“It will be this next record. Wait till my friends at that blog hear this shit, man.”
So if my math is right we should be clear
A purge of typing brings my heart to your ears
Slim lottery to be a buzzed-up hot-shit band
I never saw this new craving coming clear
I’m still a kid, I still want to go places
But now I’m a man, I don’t need to go places
But I should be dead, I might want to go places.
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Minor Characters Chicago, Illinois
Minor Characters is an indie act from Chicago whose music is a mixture of well-crafted songwriting, pop sensibility, and a rare earnestness that’s difficult to overlook. The resulting combination is a carefully composed sound with classic pop leanings that ends up sounding both familiar and fresh. ... more
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