Engineered by Steve Robillard at Capital Rehearsal Studios in Ottawa - Spring 2016
Mastered by Dean Watson at The Gallery
All songs and lyrics by Jonathan Becker (SOCAN)
Photo by Blair Smith / fivetreesatonce.tumblr.com
We recorded these solo tracks in our rehearsal room with a Crown Royal bag as a microphone shield. Thank you to Steve for always taking the time to help me with these projects. Thank you to Dean for listening and mastering these songs at the Gallery Recording Studio. Thank you to Blair for always being there.
The Way You've Aged
You're still serving bottles to the barflies. It gets harder to stay out and mix with the nightlife. The difference is where we become untied and the things we use to help us stand upright. We'll still smoke cigarettes in the park on Dundas W. We'll lay in the dead grass and I'll close my eyes, picture you painting looking your best, as November purrs in the soft light. I love the way you've aged. You're still serving at the same bars. It gets harder for me to drive out that far. I'm never sure if my words came out right as December shortens the daylight. I love the way you've aged.
As We Were
Southern California has rolling hills by the sea and there's a girl that gets the best of me and that's alright with me. Her curly hair and blue eyes don't need me around but she wastes her time teaching me to dance swinging hand in hand anyhow. As we were then as we will be tripping on our mistakes with a bit of grace. I've laid in cold sand let the wind bring us close. I've seen her eyes light up at the sound of rain alone. As we were then as we will be now tripping on our mistakes with a bit of grace.
Out Of Line
Step over scattered clothes on the floor. Drink my coffee black and look out the kitchen window to see the first snowfall of the end of the year and I think of making filthy habits disappear. I know you've harder things on your mind like people talking as they're doing all the time. There's warm things that keep us in getting by like getting stoned and keeping habits out of line. You'd think that thirty years would be enough to find out what makes a man enough. Is it harder times and softer things we've come to lose as filthy habits glimmer and shine in clouds of smoke.
Unstuck On Everything
Your records are collected and by the door with everything that never belonged to me. Hearts and everything. Your denim jacket was hung and smells like you and all the things that never belonged to me. You're unstuck on everything. Your hairs unwashed and like you to bleach the roots to hide the darkest parts of everything. Hearts and everything.