Get all 10 Great Apes releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of The Mill - White Helmets Charity Digital Single, California Heart, Grey Tapes, Playland at the Beach, Live at Thee Parkside 1/4/2014, Thread, Split 7" with Know Your Saints, Atomic Garden Sessions, and 2 more.
1. |
Seventeen Years
03:43
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seventeen years of a home where ever I steer
a wander addict can’t quit – the people that risk
it’s a bond in a bail out
we’re carving a new route
through an old parched path - we’re cutting swath
through a jungle of shit
we sit silent and alone
in the green grass dichotomy
elated and unknown
in the thankless debt of false autonomy
an unseen reason – recognition or subtle treason
the warm abuse or some excuse to keep ourselves unbound
the sake of art / the song of farce
a whispered echo when we’re gone
the instrument of sage descent
and all the deaf ears it falls on…
we sit silent and alone
in the green screen dichotomy
elated and unknown
in the thankless debt of false autonomy
what about love?
that’s one hell of a weapon
seventeen years in the murk of the ether
what’s to show what can we sow
from the strain of sound?
what about love?
that’s one hell of a weapon
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2. |
Arms of Catastrophe
03:57
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thirteen with strained seam
s
hidden wounds open wide
we hit dad’s stash at the eighth grade dance
the bliss of a kiss – peel skin, drink it in
the new
found confidence of recklessness and romance
with friends boundaries bend
dig dim to ascend
we found a way to never feel bad again
black need slow seethes
consumed and naïve
great escapes collapsing into dead ends
some hazy amnesia – we’ll call it fun
tying off when we come undone
snake oil fixes breaking tearing
we could care less about who’s caring
destroyer – venom revelry
a death dance – the arms of catastrophe
eraser – an anesthetic blockade
a needle – quack toxic surgery to hack out the memory
we bleed to the pleas of mutes bearing truth
you’ll get no recourse from a refugee that’s half-dead
amiss in the drift – without name and shameless
this lightless altar – a hospital bed
spit up in the alley – drenched in disease
through the S.F. fog comes clarity
calm in the rubble of quaking city
compassion curing – sweet Saint Pity
destroyer – venom revelry
a death dance – the arms of catastrophe
eraser – an anesthetic blockade
a needle – quack toxic surgery to hack out the memory
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3. |
Yellow Ribbon
02:26
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I can’t support
one single troop
when the organs splinte
r
it’s never done in truth
it’s all profiteering - colonial spawn
not a lack of education
or ignorance’s bliss
you sign the line you gotta know…
I’m not naïve enough to think we can do without, but…
until our forces are as small as can be
and until we save more lives than we take
I won’t fly your yellow ribbon stained red
hail to the heroes – harbingers of death and terror
there’s no threat to protect
freedom’s just a word that blindly holds their faith
there’s no threat to protect
I’m not proud of where I’m from
patriotism bleeds supremacy
when we start thinking like global citizens
they’ll be no need for militarism
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4. |
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fear your future?
captivity in waste?
oh mortality, I won’t settle in haste
prescribed to a life with a finite ending
they’ll be no after mending…
strife in balance:
risk and safety
in love with time, who else deserves me?
when the bind it beckons you, spit it jagged / tell it true
when you give until you break, take stride in mistake
but save room for fate / gouge out your space
expand your roll/ control is a fantasy
we’re drops in the rapids, you and me
pin in the middle - horizon in chains
oh duality, I won’t settle in strain
when it’s raw and real some will stray away
panic to progress?
or take comfort in decay?
strife in balance:
weigh the give and take
slivers of movement, defined in bliss and ache
when the bind it beckons you, spit it jagged / tell it true
when you give until you break, take stride in mistake
but save room for fate / gouge out your space
expand your roll/ control is a fantasy
we’re drops in the rapids, you and me
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5. |
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no vendetta on humanity
it's about making memories
choose action over normalcy
push progress bending boundaries
stagnate in redundancy
the worthless goo of complacency
change culled in rivalry
crass wrath evolutionary
species: a fluke in chance
If you ain't thrashin' with passion, why even dance?
brief and bland, life’s a killer
all shock, no flat-lined filler
I want it filthy, raw, and sweaty
with no value placed upon the petty
intelligence in tolerance
the royalty takes the least offense
the status quo captor enemy
the taboo always sets me free
species: a fluke in chance
If you ain't thrashin' with passion, why even dance?
in consequence and raging glory,
anything at all for the sake of story
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6. |
Vial of Life
03:23
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with teenage parents in
the Northeast’s winter teeth
a child dressed in bruises
neglect’s sweat soaking sheets
mother’s resenting eyes
father’s fumbling hands
petal fallen to storm
-
cast out to barren lands
exhaust emaciated frame
cement bed of recess yard
fall lapsing into coma white
wake to fifth grade cards
they put a price tag on my vial of life
my breath is profit, not a basic human right
all of the days spent monitoring in fear…
I live for my brother and the people I hold dear
needle pointing compass
navigating veins
all paths plagued in sugar
dizzy missing frames
death hides in my shadow
tugging swollen feet
Christmas skin – jab it in
mother’s sending sweets
survival assembly line
patient demoralized in care
tied up and strangled by
the red ticker tape of our health fare
they put a price tag on my vial of life
my breath is profit, not a basic human right
all of the days spent monitoring in fear
I live for my brother and the people I hold dear…
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7. |
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a validation, repose, a homage
the greatest times are not ornate
sometimes I forget they are serene moments where
history and future draw a line through present on a city street
it’s happening tonight
driving a taxi sitting on the beach in dark
“well, this isn’t going to make you rich,” he says
“surround yourself with the wealthy and play golf.”
(and I know he’s right) that this life won’t pay
the spare cab lurches and bounces down
Marina to Diamond Heights
I sit the stoic therapist because I have nothing to say
and at end of session he’s in tears - oh, the ruin of his life
I choose relative poverty
and the sound of the ocean
the waves crash, but I can’t see them through
the fog that blankets the edge of the western world
glass towers give way to pastel cubes out here
American thought pushed to the water on wagon trains
rail lines and ships – steam rollers will make you mad
I will be here again and again
I will always hear the waves, but I will never see them crash
the city at sleep: empty boulevards and wisps of fog in wind
memories of love gone
and the promise of loves to come
intersection, hope, goodnight
I choose relative poverty
and the sound of the ocean
the waves crash, but I can’t see them through
the fog that blankets the edge of the western world
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8. |
Withering Heights
03:29
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knives trace the ribs
inking porcelain blood
bed of languish,
with a blade in the lobe
the seriated parasite -
the gnawing unknown
in this withering body,
breathes expansive youth
letters to family - there’s no divinity
the universe isn’t god’s,
it’s randomly serene
test batteries / failed remedies
these passing particles
will be reabsorbed and seen
the parting partner
to have and hold in only health.
a hollow remission
of normality masked
then love like a whirlwind -
a purpose and home
in your arms I crumble.
the hips rot out (this again)
doused in pain and pills / sleepless in chills
on sticks at twenty six,
bones searing every day
scalpels through the skin / they’re fusing metal in
emerging bathed in sun
oh, the rebirth of decay
now new fears rise:
how can I provide
incandescence and a life worth loving for?
in debt and in support,
I will not abort
you are my worry now,
and I don’t worry anymore
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9. |
San Quentin
03:16
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an off-white blemish on a perfect palette of blues
sea green converging with Marin money hues
Tamalpais looks downward upon the wealth-exempt wound
500 acres with a con in every room
while the sun-soaked saunter smiling through Northgate Mall
breathing grey specters sickly scratch cell walls
Samaritans of privilege spewing script liberal speak
wretched truth on the Bay’s edge - oh, the ease in turning cheek
it’s not human if we don’t have to look
in death’s glowing chamber, stone cage to stone plaque
window watching strangers witness life unpacked
under a redwood halo comes love and regret
sinner self-forgiveness while the saint freely forgets
if there’s a problem, we’ll lock it up
devaluation - the slow strain on the core
treatment by covering the sore
demonization enables error without remorse
systemic - avoidance of the source
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10. |
Thread
03:22
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I’m a loyalist, baby
the roots to the tree
I stick in when the torrent rages
won’t you sway with me
giving incinerator – born in your side
we got a thirst for better or worse
let’s drink it dry
when ambition’s missing
when fog fills my eyes
jolt me with the shove of love
guide me in ties
we’re all shepherds, baby
we don’t need no gods
we embrace that fleeting grace
and find beauty in flaws
we got trajectory
out of the factory…
when your will wrinkles weary and worn
when the hours pull taught and torn
I will sew your pattern into me
weaving the chaos in close company
when the blanket of days wears thin
cover me in warmth again
without you, the seams pull apart
the thread to the fabric – the sum of all parts
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Great Apes San Francisco, California
Insert hype-up descriptors here. Plain and simple, San Francisco's Great Apes are a lyrical punk band. Music, much like a bio, is often at its best when it’s spit out intensely and quickly, with concision and honesty.
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