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Rating:
I take the record from the shelf and dive in. A dive into the past. I remember that the cover always disgusted me, that all the artwork always disgusted me. I recall an interview where they said that in 1996 they toured without ever being paid, and when I think back to those words, I always remember the same thing: "Okay, they stole the gasoline, but they're lucky there are no toll booths in America. Those you can't dodge? Wait, but are there toll booths in America?" It's a bad habit to end thoughts with a question.
Everything live, dirty sounds and so much attitude that they could take down a rhinoceros at the first shot. They come from El Paso - a big toilet of a city, they say, and I don't doubt it - and the At the Drive-In of 1996 can be imagined as simple twenty-somethings without the ridiculous hair they sport around today and who, intent on connecting instruments to amplifiers, thoroughly ignoring refined recording techniques, harps, pianos, trumpets, and whatnot, limit themselves to playing loud and fast, quickly saying what they have to say, and removing themselves, just as quickly, from the scene.
The At the Drive-In of 1996 played a post-Hardcore mixed with what many insist on calling Emo-core - a term they never really liked when referring to their music. A successful and personal blend of Fugazi and Cap'n Jazz, taking the rhythms of the former and the melodies and that sense of emotional assault from the latter.
Acrobatic Tenement, released by Flipside, tells of the spontaneous and genuine At the Drive-In, devoid of the guitar intricacies that would characterize their later albums - Rodriguez had arrived too recently to assert himself -, caught between solitary catharsis and the desire to see if anyone else might care about them. I imagine them crammed into a white van, Cedric leaning against the bass drum for hours and hours.
It was 2001 or 2002. I went to school crossing two kilometers of weed-filled fields to avoid at least another two of asphalt. I went with my Walkman strapped to my belt, Relationship of Command, dubbed from the CD, spinning and spinning, wrapping around itself. At the Drive-In were already disbanded. Coffee always disgusted me; there are many ways to wake up.
Tracklist and Lyrics
01 Star Slight (01:18)
Sailing all alone
Guided by star light
Nowhere is my home
inside my mind
We've paid that shoeshine boy
whose buff has no smile
He spits on your tip toes
and you keep bragging folklore
like it's out of style
out of focus
Harum scarum
we promote this
cover discover
You know your insides true
Better then I do
This is starslight.
02 Schaffino (02:49)
This time I'm gonna take the collection baby
And with the money in my hand
I'm gonna purchase all the details
Scrub you clean with my soap opera chirping
Walking on tip-toed pickpocket fever
Racing up the scales of your thermometer
Turnbuckle tournicate clotting the moonshine
Clotheslined seizures singing happy valentines
I'm singing, happy, a valen-, happy valentine yeah
I found feathers in the hit and run nest
Omerttas not a prayer on your rosary beads
I found feathers in the hit and run nest
When she knocked me over
I looked inside the hearse
Sprouting chauvanistic swine
And written were the words
Poking butter with this knife
Allergic to this concubine
Racing by in a '56 chevy
And we couldn't even pretend
To be alive... x6
I found feathers in the hit and run nest
Scrub you clean with my soap opera chirping
i found feathers at the. hit and, run
04 Initiation (03:27)
I-N-I-T-I, A-T-I-O-N
follow you home after every show
perforated into tiny fragments
heavy breathing's your new fan club
a john handcock with the safety off after every show
and how this pedestal fits like a glove
such a pity I built no ladder
for the roots, and above
i'll be hacking off, after every show
(I-N-I-T-I-A-T-I-O-N)
initiation,
x3
(what---)
whatcha doin,
There's no restraining order to keep me from you
parting contestants never win
(Initiation, what---)
Watcha doin,
There's no restraing order, keep me from you
Parting contestants never seem to win
Watch you clap your hands by the stage
Lend me your ears, just another page
In the book that your friend signed yesterday
When I told you not to bother to holler
the telephone's the one that helped
me wrap - the chord
around - your neck
you know - you're beautiful
when you're dead
(I-N-I-T-I-A-T-I-O-N)
initiation,
x3
(what---)
whatcha doin,
There's no restraining order to keep me from you
(Initiation, what---)
Watcha doin,
There's no restraing order, keep me from you
Parting contestants never seem to win
07 Paid Vacation Time (03:34)
So we see the opportunities
Stich and thread
with no down payments
our neighbors see it through their
own eyes so that the others hear
the story, the grapevine
dot your i's, cross your t's
this forfeitures the burden of another
and all those friends you thought you had
are laughing at and not with you
and all those friends you thought you knew
you'd trade it all for a tank full of fuel
bel aire colonial deluxe number five
all the warmth that a boy can give
sheepskin costume
i'm a truant officer
08 Ticklish (04:35)
pigeon holed decision making
all my mind's made up
i only colored outside the lines
'cause i got the knack
stenciled teen initials
that were carved on the roof of my mouth
only to bark the words of so-and-so
fuck so-and-so...
i been dancing in the bathroom stalls
excreting words just for this song
i'm kicking in windows
and it don't make music to me
"please get some medication
simple. it's simple...
we must die with dignity."
pallbearer we are and all that
we never get and all my little pushes
fall on your
deaf
ears
kicking in these windows
kicking in these windows
it's on the roof of my mouth
i'm gonna bark the words
on the roof of my mouth
tickling with contusions
paper bag masks hiding infantile music
no pictures, just words
are you afraid of our books?
illiterate cells for the valley of mules
11 Porfirio Diaz (03:01)
kiss and kill your boyfriend
and all rich ones, too
rich kids of the world unite
dime on the bleachers
head says not that far away
bu the only way up is down
and I keep falling
flip it again, but the answer
hasn't spared its change
doesn't matter how much time
you'll never forget that forgetting's required
served on a platter of fakes
it's inevitable
we're proud to be pricks
we're proud to be assholes
picking up the pieces one by one
don't let it ride
answer, someone, anyone
won't you pick up the pieces
you left behind?
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