Intercourse

by Intercourse

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  • Intercourse EP
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    Opaque, orange cassette with full color sleeve and lyrics insert. Limited to 100. Shipping included in price.

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    Pen and Ink Illustration by Connor Lambert Dabbs

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    Smoke Posuers illustration by Connor Dabbs on cap. Intercourse logo by Dora Sambuco under brim.

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    Illustration by Connor Lambert Dabbs

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about

credits

released July 21, 2014

INTERCOURSE (on this recording)
Tarek Ahmed-Vocals.
Kevin MF King- Guitar.
Connor Lambert Dabbs- Bass.
Anthony Wolfgang Reckart- Drums.

Recorded, engineered and mixed by: Eliot Geller at Geller Cellar Studios in Mahopac, New York

Mastered by: Shane Frisby at The Brick HitHouse in Hyannis, Massachusetts

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Intercourse New Haven, Connecticut

Feeding back since 2014

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Track Name: Fly Tape
Passing time, lighting fires, dreaming of being a hero.
Parasites with warm, wet holes.
We co-exist, squirm so close, an open exchange of vapor.
Stuck on the window sill, immobile.
Sometimes when i walk through large crowds i feel like I'm being dragged across fly tape.
Can't hide my disgust.
I don't know what it all means, I'm sitting alone eating paper.
Watching the walls breath, trying to feel familiar.
I've run out of memories, I've run out of songs from my youth to listen to.
Track Name: Town Plot Prowler
"it's just not working anymore" i thought to myself as i stared at the computer screen not quite soft but too hard to be ignored what a perfect metaphor for my pathetic existence It wasn't always this way first it was with the club under dads bed then a Victoria's secret catalog when I grew a little older grew a little wiser... Then it was one girl one man, then one girl two men, next a girl with aliens, then a dog , then a horse now I stare limp... I'm a sick fuck.
Track Name: Iodine
fuck the fluoride man there's radiation in our water you'll be thankful for Obama care when you're turning fucking green... No FEMA camps no magic weather machine no gun control it's time to fear something real... You'll see it when it happens there's never a reason your conspiracies hang flaccid... No false flags no illuminati no impeachment no future... Fuck gold invest in iodine.
Track Name: Abominable Buzzkill
opinions are like guns tons of assholes have them like to shoot them off in public... How bout some cognitive dissonance?? Fuck your day up sorry you're wrong... Is it me?? Are you entitled?? To your opinion and everything you see your self confidence makes my skin crawl I've heard it all before I'm waiting for marshal law motherfucker... with your nose high up in the air you came from the next town over we grew up on the same water how bout some truth?? Fuck your day up... Hipsters and gun nuts, conspiracy theorist who won't shut the fuck up, redneck pig motherfuckers; fuck you... That hippie guy at every party trying to fuck every girl you're wrong.
Track Name: Shit Head Plague
oh no get your dick beaters off of me... For 30 years I've suffered this plague if shit heads in silence... " the forum's yours, what you have to say may change the world" "shut your fucking cock sucker" shitty conversations hand shakes that last too long bad breath and beards... Shit heads... Nothing gets past you where'd you get your degree??
Track Name: Birth Of A Neighborhood
What do you think the police said when they arrived at the scene?? "Congratulations son you got one!! Have a cigar!! Sign right here we'll show you where to drag the son bitch to get him stuffed... Whites only move along there's nothing to see here this is a whites only neighborhood why don't you go back home to your guns??" And everyone felt safe it's only gonna be a matter if time before your hate follows you home then we'll import the coffins from the inner cities for your children little child sized coffins for children it's only a matter of time.
Track Name: No Falafel
you caught me red handed spacing off again... blood on my blankets no falafel... If these walls could talk you know they'd throw up and you'll clean it you dumb fuck again and again and you'll fucking like it you'll love it... 29 going on 16 heading straight to the grave... Waking up with a dry mouth from the shittiest dreams trees lose leaves people change I stay the same... No falafel not tomorrow... Ad-Rock, Mca, Mike D the Beastie Boys fought for your right to party you pissed it away... What goes up must come right back down you'll find me hanging after the greatest party cut me down.