Get all 6 One Finite Monkey releases available on Bandcamp and save 40%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Reality and the Dream, Visions With Revisions, reinventing of the wheel, Bread From These Stones, As IF, and Inside Joke.
1. |
We Should Be Heroes
04:22
|
|||
|
I've got a hamburger and a tasty drink.
I've got a dumb job that pays me not to think.
I've got a high IQ, I've got a good degree.
I've never been to prison, still I want to be free.
We are the future, we are the young,
we should be heroes.
We're number one, we're having fun,
we're never zeroes, and we've got
nothing to do today
nothing to do today.
Everybody tells me that I could go far
and make tomorrow brighter than the stars.
Life is a gamble, we're all placing bets.
If I lower my standards, I've got no regrets.
We are the future, we are the young,
we should be heroes.
We're number one, we're having fun,
we're never zeroes, and we've got
nothing to do today
nothing to do today.
We've got an ambition to find whatever will please us.
We may stop the spread of certain diseases.
We are the future, we are the young,
we should be heroes.
We're number one, we're having fun,
we're never zeroes, and we've got
nothing to do today
nothing to do today.
|
||||
2. |
Monkey Time
04:44
|
|||
|
When the monkey time comes, we'll all just swing from the trees.
Tall teen anarchists, come circle up your wagons,
certain silver scientists will bring on Armeggedon,
while local tinder texts diss nude vacancy rates
and occupy your home town is the new cheap date.
Well, I remember in 1984,
when everyone expected a third world war
and the best job you could get paid only minimum wage.
Somehow, we survived to see this new clear age.
When the monkey time comes, we'll all just swing from the trees.
Top hat plutocrats all grok the status quo,
always saying "everyone!" to "Who do you know?"
Well, I remember this guy on a horse,
spying Lady Liberty, he just said, "Of course!"
When the monkey time comes, we'll all just swing from the trees.
|
||||
3. |
Youth In Asia
03:45
|
|||
|
Controversy doesn't irk me.
Says me, says you. Youth in Asia.
Vinyl plastic, cheap elastic.
But who pays the youth in Asia?
They may try it, but not buy it.
They may try, but not buy it.
They may try it, but not buy it.
Dragon slayers. Youth in Asia.
It's not pretty. Here's what gets me:
how to save the youth in Asia.
They may try it, but not buy it.
They may try, but not buy it.
They may try it, but not buy it.
Dragon slayers. Youth in Asia.
|
||||
4. |
Hit And Miss
02:56
|
|||
|
Well, I had a blue guitar
like Townes Van Zandt only wished
and it played things as they are,
which got Picasso pissed.
Think of it as machine gun fire
think of it perhaps as bells
or as Wallace Stevens once observed
a tune beyond us, yet of ourselves.
And it played a host to dreams,
a shielding and a sigh,
and less complicated schemes,
but it never never told a lie
And when I least expect it
it recalled with some directness
some moments between you and me.
Well, I had a blue guitar
like Townes Van Zandt only wished
and it played things as they are
but it played them hit and miss.
|
||||
5. |
Separate Ways
03:30
|
|||
|
The grocery magazine lives for broken dreams.
Maybe the love was faked. They're going separate ways.
Will they try again, or is this the end?
One goes, one stays. They're going separate ways.
Separate ways, they're going separate ways.
What more can you say? They went their separate ways.
Dividing up the space both try to save face.
There's nothing more to say. They're going separate ways.
Will they meet again, pretending to be friends
for the children's sake, going separate ways?
Separate ways, they're going separate ways.
All the vows to break. They're going separate ways.
Separate ways, all go in separate ways.
How can it be okay?
|
||||
6. |
Cold Cold Wind
03:03
|
|||
|
Cold cold wind
cold cold wind,
feeling exposed
just like a sin
cold cold wind.
Cold cold wind
cold cold wind
blowing right by
like an old friend
cold cold wind.
When I chose this path I'm on,
I had no sense of choosing.
So, when I lost my way,
there was no sense of losing
and all that I know now is
I don't know what I'm doing.
Cold cold wind
cold cold wind
and I don't know how
to start again
cold cold wind.
|
||||
7. |
Chug That Swill
03:53
|
|||
|
Bloody river, pouring rain, early morning, red wine stain.
Counting blessings every time, overlooked for another crime.
There's no way out, no one to kill,
but if you know the way, you may find there's a will.
Chug that swill. Chug that swill.
Ocean rising, blue suede shoes, Cain and Abel paid their dues.
Muddy Waters, mostly dead, can't remember what God said.
Could have been half as authentic as a three dollar bill,
but if you know the way you may find there's a will.
Chug that swill. Chug that swill.
Climbing mountains just to see holy mountains far away
holy mountains, purple friends, vantage point to see the end.
The time spent waiting is waiting still
but if you know the way, you may find there's a will.
Chug that swill. Chug that swill.
|
||||
8. |
Fan Of The Common Man
08:41
|
|||
|
Sometimes it really blows my mind
the many ways we waste our time
NFL and Elvis shrines
on the news get equal time
and in this zoo of modern man
we've natural habitation plans
with remote controls and Campbells cans
and a dog-eared issue of Wired.
You rub your wand until you get your wish.
What's wrong with this? What's wrong with this?
A politician does Pinocchio
with a wooden head and expanding nose
in a pseudo-Caesar pose
in a luxury land turned hovel.
They'll tell you work's it's own reward;
I burn my bread by staying bored
like a serf before his lord
with nothing to do but grovel
and hope to give that gold ring a kiss.
What's wrong with this? What's wrong with this?
And I'm wild in a civilized land,
like a child with a kind of cynical plan.
Here I go, trying to understand
and be a fan, a fan of the common man.
I get that every life is hard.
You charge it to a credit card
to reap a feeble cash reward
and talk of compromise or
you tell me that it's wasting time,
the punishment begets the crime
and I'll respond just like a mine
to leave you none the wiser.
It's nice if you get the gist.
What's wrong with this? What's wrong with this?
And I'm wild in a civilized land,
like a child with a kind of cynical plan.
Here I go, trying to understand
and be a fan, a fan of the common man.
Somehow we all learn to be free
like great apes and sea monkeys
who procreate and try to please;
their home resembles a bubble.
The success measuring meter stick
is not unlike the parlor tricks
of dogs and cats in circus shtick
scratching at day-old stubble.
You lift your leg to mark your lot with piss.
What's wrong with this? What's wrong with this?
And I'm wild in a civilized land,
like a child with a kind of cynical plan.
Here I go, trying to understand
and be a fan, a fan of the common man.
|
||||
9. |
Blessings In Disguise
06:15
|
|||
|
Everybody pays their dues
making feats for children's shoes
making purple out of blues
making profits out of pews
yes and, everybody shares the blame
for every little carpet stain,
vanity and toxic rain,
pearls of wisdom down the drain.
A part the ear, a part the eyes,
part defeat and partial prize
every time to realize
it's all just blessings in disguise.
Everybody has a chance
to wallflower out and have this dance,
turn a corner happenstance,
find your car keys and find romance
yes and everybody knows the deal
reinventing of the wheel
blindly navigate by feel
borrow some the rest you steal.
A part you bake, a part you fry,
blandishment or criticize.
Stand your ground or compromise
it's all just blessings in disguise.
Everybody gives advice
raze the value, raise the price.
Loyalty and sacrifice
sells another cool device.
Yes, and everybody knows the good
halfway to misunderstood
superstitious knock on wood
two parts can't and one part should.
A part you paint, a party dye
a part you walk a part you fly
accept it or hypothesize
it's all just blessings in disguise.
Everybody minds their own.
Hold the tongue or hold the phone
put in sense and pay a loan
strangers reaping what we've sown.
Yes and everybody makes the call
ring the belle condemn the ball
seize the righting on the wall
smell decay that's just the fall.
Cross the teas and dot the ayes
comes in peaces, comes with fries
Lord of all or lord of flies
it's all just blessings in disguise.
|
||||
10. |
Should I Find The Words
06:31
|
|||
|
Much of life is only killing time
hoping for something sublime.
We do all tasks behind predetermined masks
I wish I could be your mime.
Much of life is only stale and bland
and then there's playing in a band
we do all right, hit the mark and face the light
I know all the verses and
this is the chorus should I write it
this is the chorus should I find the words
Much of life is only doing time
I think I'll be a concubine
I'll paint my face invest in a bit of lace
and then I'll take your hand with mine
this is the chorus should I write it
this is the chorus should I find the words
There is no bridge left for me to burn.
Much of life consists of changing plans
I have been an also ran
I may be smart but take each task with half a heart
I may have to start again.
this is the chorus should I write it
this is the chorus should I find the words
|
||||
11. |
Cold War Babies
04:21
|
|||
|
You and me, we were cold war babies
and they told us it would end this way:
a rocket launched in some distant nation,
an end in fire on a final day.
You and me, before we understood it,
saw our parents fight a losing war,
saw them marching with the signs revealing
they didn't know what they were fighting for.
You and me, we tried to stand together
in a world that could seem so cruel,
to live in hope, no matter what they told us.
Maybe Russians loved their children too.
My grandfather made planes and rockets
to beat Russians to the moon.
You and me, we saw a shuttle exploding.
Saw the planes that hit the towers too.
My grandfather, they named me for him.
He was born into the Spanish flu,
lost his family to the great depression,
fought the Axis in the World War II.
You and me, we were cold war babies
so we always thought it would end this way,
but we stood our ground with a faith unshattered,
singing songs at the final days.
You and me, we were cold war babies.
They told us not to live too long.
If the world doesn't end in fire,
I hope somehow it ends in song.
|
||||
One Finite Monkey Bellingham, Washington
One Finite Monkey: a veteran of a dozen bands you’ve never heard of, a player of a dozen instruments, a producer of
something like 50 obscure albums, now holed up in the attic of an old house in Bellingham, Washington, writing and recording songs.
For fans of Jerry Garcia, Neil Young, Violent Femmes, Tom Waits, Richard Thompson, and Mark Knopfler.
... more
One Finite Monkey recommends:
Tingujt e Zemrës
by Shtëpia Records
This is a very special recording for me, as I played doula in the composition of these songs. My friend Aaron produced the recordings.
go to album
Drowning Out Love
by Late Tuesday
Late Tuesday hasn't played together years. I get to play with one of them from time to time and it's always a great time.
go to album
Another B'ham band. I know Nick personally. We sometimes play together.
go to albumIf you like One Finite Monkey, you may also like:
A riveting jam session from Pittsburgh, Pa. folk band Wisbands, who infuse classic Americana with jazz and psychedelic rock.
go to album
if no one else cares, why should I care?
by Good Good Blood
Pairing lo-fi indie rock with silvery folk instrumentation, the self-described "bedroom pop wizard" casts a cozy, poignant spell.
go to album
Falando Nisso
by Valentim Frateschi
featured on Bandcamp Radio Aug 8, 2023
go to album
