Colossal Misfits

by The Dry Ones

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about

The Colossal Misfits EP is the debut release from Nathan Worcester's solo project, the Dry Ones. Folk-inflected and semi-improvised, it will bleed you like a woodtick.

credits

released 31 May 2013
Nathan Worcester - vocals, keyboards, bass, electric/acoustic guitar, mandolin, banjo, violin, snapping and kneeslapping, production.
Robert Vavra - audio engineering, production.
Peregrine Bell - audio engineering.

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about

The Dry Ones Chicago, Illinois

A soldier marching in formation breaks away and continues marching for hundreds of miles, gradually replacing his uniform with different clothing and evolving into a different person.

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Track Name: The Saddest Surfer in the World
The saddest surfer in the world, in the world, in the world, in the world, in the world... The saddest surfer in the world, in the world, in the world, in the world, in the world...

The saddest surfer in the world woke up from his dream of water -
Thirty miles from sea, the land is hotter.

The saddest surfer in the world went down to the Safeway -
Ordered bulk surf wax on layaway.

The saddest surfer in the world, in the world, in the world, in the world, in the world... The saddest surfer in the world, in the world, in the world, in the world, in the world...

The saddest surfer in the world got back in his station wagon
Cleaned out all the sand his surfboard’s draggin’.

The saddest surfer in the world perked up at his Beach Boys ringtone
Pocket-dialed by his exe’s cell phone, and he hears the ]CLICK[.

The saddest surfer in the world, in the world, in the world, in the world, in the world... The saddest surfer in the world, in the world, in the world, in the world, in the world...

The saddest surfer in the world went down to the boardwalk railing
In the evening waves, alone and bailing.

And the saddest surfer in the world turns forty-five on Tuesday
Drinking rum in the Tiki bar each Thursday - YOU CAN'T KILL THIS MAN!

The saddest surfer in the world, in the world, in the world, in the world, in the world... The saddest surfer in the world, in the world, in the world, in the world, in the world
Track Name: The Harp
I won’t even pretend to know what you’re going through,
But maybe I do too...
I won’t even pretend to care if we ever part,
But maybe I can start...
I don’t even remember how I convinced you that
The earth is really flat... And my voice is sharp, and this thing is really a harp.

Don’t expect the ground to shift when you need a lift...
Don’t expect the seas to dry when you want to cry...
Don’t expect the sky to fall when you’re feeling two foot small...
Don’t expect the world to end when you lose your friend...

You are gonna expect the worst once the clouds have burst,
But really it’s a dam
Justice is a little slow when you’re on Death Row but
The killer’s on the lam
I don’t even remember how I convinced myself that
The prize was on my shelf... And your honest word isn’t just a lie I misheard.

Don’t expect the seas to dry when you want to cry...
Don’t expect the ground to shift when you need a lift...
Don’t expect the sky to fall when you’re feeling two foot small...
Don’t expect the world to end ‘till you’re on the mend...
Track Name: Cigarillos
And the sky is shot with light,
And there's a tumble in my ear, nay...
And the wise are made to fight -
That's what they're designed for.

When the house is burnt and bright
I found a reason to be rigid -
Well, I hope you're happy.

I am frost, I am fright,
I am evil from the sides -
I am a white boy buying cigarillos tonight.

And the old will split their sides,
And there's a tumble in my suitcase
(Roll it down the sidewalk now, yeah)
And the young will wear my hide,
I don't exactly gonna miss you...

I am frost, I am fright,
I am evil from the sides -
I am a white boy buying cigarillos tonight.
Track Name: Pictures of Gallagher
Speak when I am lonely, lonelier than sin...
Like a pair of bell bottom blues ripped up in the shins...
I don't like the heat now, I'd be happier at night...
You just want to do well, but I do not think that's right.
I see visions, I describe the static -
He's tomorrow, attic black at midday -
I would like to make you talk...
I would like to make you say...
I am watermelon red, and you are hammer gray...
We can watch the audience slowly drift away.